LIBRARY   OF   'J 


University  of  California, 


*'        C 1 R  C  UJ 

\        ;-i  week  tefr- 


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A    NOBLE     LIFE 


THE  AUTHOR  OF 

"JOHN    HALIFAX,    GENTLEMAN,' 

"CHRISTIAN'S   MISTAKE," 

&c.,  &c.,  &c. 


FIAT  VOLTJNTA8  TUA. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER   &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN     SQUARE. 

1875. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  "JOHN  HALIFAX." 


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90  cents  each.    Now  Ready : 

I ITTLE  SUNSHINE'S  HOLIDAY.  TWENTY  YEARS  AGO. 

THE  COUSIN  FROM  INDIA.  IS  IT  TRUE! 

MISS  MOORE.  AN  ONLY  SISTER. 


PUBLISH  ED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YOBK. 

KIT  Sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the  United  Statet  or  Canada,  on  receipt  of  the  priet. 


A/4 

i  far 


WITH  THE  AFFECTION  OF  EIGHTEEN  YEARS, 
TO 

UNCLE    GEORGE. 


N0bU  lilt. 


Cjwpter  tjre  |irst. 


MANY  years  ago,  how  many  need  not  be  recorded, 
there  lived  in  his  ancestral  castle,  in  the  far  north  of 
Scotland,  the  last  Earl  of  Cairnforth. 

You  will  not  find  his  name  in  "Lodge's  Peerage,"  for, 
as  I  say,  he  was  the  last  earl,  and  with  him  the  title  be- 
came extinct.  It  had  been  borne  for  centuries  by  many 
noble  and  gallant  men,  who  had  lived  worthily  or  died 
bravely.  But  I  think  among  what  we  call  "  heroic"  lives 
— lives  the  story  of  which  touches  us  with  something 
higher  than  pity,  and  deeper  than  love — there  never  was 
any  of  his  race  who  left  behind  a  history  more  truly  he- 
roic than  he. 

Now  that  it  is  all  over  and  done — now  that  the  soul  so 
mysteriously  given  has  gone  back  unto  Him  who  gave 
it,  and  a  little  green  turf  in  the  kirk-yard  behind  Cairn- 
forth Manse  covers  the  poor  body  in  which  it  dwelt  for 
more  than  forty  years,  I  feel  it  might  do  good  to  many, 
and  would  do  harm  to  none,  if  I  related  the  story — a 
very  simple  one,  and  more  like  a  biography  than  a  tale 
— of  Charles  Edward  Stuart  Montgomerie,  last  Earl  of 
Cairnforth. 

He  did  not  succeed  to  the  title ;  he  was  born  Earl  of 
Cairnforth,  his  father  having  been  drowned  in  the  loch  a 
month  before,  the  wretched  countess  herself  beholding 
the  sight  from  her  castle  windows.  She  lived  but  to 


8  A  Noble  Life. 

know  she  had  a  son  and  heir  —  to  whom  she  desired 
might  be  given  his  father's  name :  then  she  died — more 
glad  than  sorry  to  depart,  for  she  had  loved  her  husband 
all  her  life,  and  had  only  been  married  to  him  a  year. 
Perhaps,  had  she  once  seen  her  son,  she  might  have 
wished  less  to  die  than  to  live,  if  only  for  his  sake ;  how- 
ever, it  was  not  God's  will  that  this  should  be.  So,  at 
two  days  old,  the  "poor  little  earl" — as  from  his  very 
birth  people  began  compassionately  to  call  him — was  left 
alone  in  the  world,  without  a  single  near  relative  or  con- 
nection, his  parents  having  both  been  only  children,  but 
with  his  title,  his  estate,  and  twenty  thousand  a  year. 

Cairnforth  Castle  is  one  of  the  loveliest  residences  in 
all  Scotland.  It  is  built  on  the  extremity  of  a  long 
tongue  of  land  which  stretches  out  between  two  salt-wa- 
ter lochs — Loch  Beg,  the  "little,"  and  Loch  Mhor,  the 
"  big"  lake.  The  latter  is  grand  and  gloomy,  shut  in  by 
bleak  mountains,  which  sit  all  round  it,  their  feet  in  the 
water,  and  their  heads  in  mist  and  cloud.  But  Loch  Beg 
is  quite  different.  It  has  green,  cultivated,  sloping  shores, 
fringed  with  trees  to  the  water's  edge,  and  the  least  ray 
of  sunshine  seems  always  to  set  it  dimpling  with  wavy 
smiles.  Now  and  then  a  sudden  squall  comes  down  from 
the  chain  of  mountains  far  away  beyond  the  head  of  the 
loch,  and  then  its  waters  begin  to  darken — -just  like  a 
sudden  frown  over  a  bright  face;  the  waves  curl  and 
rise,  and  lash  themselves  into  foam,  and  any  little  sailing 
boat,  which  has  been  happily  and  safely  riding  over  them 
five  minutes  before,  is  often  struck  and  capsized  immedi- 
ately. Thus  it  happened  when  the  late  earl  was  drowned. 

The  minister  — the  Rev.  Alexander  Cardross  —  had 


A  Noble  Life.  9 

been  out  sailing  with  him;  had  only  just  landed,  and 
was  watching  the  boat  crossing  back  again,  when  the 
squall  came  down.  Though  this  region  is  a  populous 
district  now,  with  white  villas  dotted  like  daisies  all 
along  the  green  shores,  there  was  then  not  a  house  in 
the  whole  peninsula  of  Cairnforth  except  the  Castle,  the 
Manse,  and  a  few  cottages,  called  the  "  clachan."  Before 
help  was  possible,  the  earl  and  his  boatman,  Neil  Camp- 
bell, were  both  drowned.  The  only  person  saved  was 
little  Malcolm  Campbell — Neil's  brother — a  boy  about 
ten  years  old. 

In  most  country  parishes  of  Scotland  or  England  there 
is  an  almost  superstitious  feeling  that  "  the  minister,"  or 
"  the  clergyman,"  must  be  the  fittest  person  to  break  any 
terrible  tidings.  So  it  ought  to  be.  Who  but  the  mes- 
senger of  God  should  know  best  how  to  communicate 
His  awful  will,  as  expressed  in  great  visitations  of  calam- 
ity ?  In  this  case  no  one  could  have  been  more  suited 
for  his  solemn  office  than  Mr.  Cardross.  He  went  up  to 
the  Castle  door,  as  he  had  done  to  that  of  many  a  cottage, 
bearing  the  same  solemn  message  of  sudden  death,  to 
which  there  could  be  but  one  answer — "Thy  will  be 
done." 

But  the  particulars  of  that  terrible  interview,  in  which 
he  had  to  tell  the  countess  what  already  her  own  eyes 
had  witnessed — though  they  refused  to  believe  the  truth 
— the  minister  never  repeated  to  any  creature  except  his 
wife.  And  afterward,  during  the  four  weeks  that  Lady 
Cairnforth  survived  her  husband,  he  was  the  only  per- 
son, beyond  her  necessary  attendants,  who  saw  her  until 
she  died. 

A2 


10  A  Noble  Life. 

The  day  after  her  death  he  was  suddenly  summoned 
to  the  castle  by  Mr.  Menteith,  an  Edinburg  writer  to  the 
signet,  and  confidential  agent,  or  factor,  as  the  office  is 
called  in  Scotland,  to  the  late  earl. 

"  They'll  be  sending  for  you  to  baptize  the  child.  It's 
early— but  the  puir  bit  thing  may  be  delicate,  and  they 
may  want  it  done  at  once,  before  Mr.  Menteith  returns  to 
Edinburg." 

"  Maybe  so,  Helen ;  so  do  not  expect  me  back  till  you 
see  me." 

Thus  saying,  the  minister  quitted  his  sunshiny  manse 
garden,  where  he  was  working  peacefully  among  his  rasp- 
berry-bushes, with  his  wife  looking  on,  and  walked,  in 
meditative  mood,  through  the  Cairnforth  woods,  now  blue 
with  hyacinths  in  their  bosky  shadows,  and  in  every  nook 
and  corner  starred  with  great  clusters  of  yellow  primroses, 
which  in  this  part  of  the  country  grow  profusely,  even 
down  to  within  a  few  feet  of  high-water  mark,  on  the 
tidal  shores  of  the  lochs.  Their  large,  round,  smiling 
faces,  so  irresistibly  suggestive  of  baby  smiles  at  sight  of 
them,  and  baby  fingers  clutching  at  them,  touched  the 
heart  of  the  good  minister,  who  had  left  two  small  crea- 
tures of  his  own — a  "  bit  girlie"  of  five,  and  a  two-year- 
old  boy — playing  on  his  grass-plot  at  home  with  some 
toys  of  the  countess's  giving :  she  had  always  been  ex- 
ceedingly kind  to  the  Manse  children. 

He  thought  of  her,  lying  dead ;  and  then  of  her  poor 
little  motherless  and  fatherless  baby,  whom,  if  she  had 
any  consciousness  in  her  death-hour,  it  must  have  been  a 
sore  pang  to  her  to  leave  behind.  And  the  tears  gather- 
ed again  and  again  in  the  good  man's  eyes,  shutting  out 
from  his  vision  all  the  beauty  of  the  spring. 


A  Noble  Life.  11 

He  reached  the  grand  Italian  portico,  built  by  some 
former  earl  with  a*  taste  for  that  style,  and  yet  harmoniz- 
ing well  with  the  smooth  lawn,  bounded  by  a  circle  of 
magnificent  trees,  through  which  came  glimpses  of  the 
glittering  loch.  The  great  doors  used  almost  always  to 
stand  open,  and  the  windows  were  rarely  closed  —  the 
countess  liked  sunshine  and  fresh  air,  but  now  all  was 
shut  up  and  silent,  and  not  a  soul  was  to  be  seen  about 
the  place. 

Mr.  Cardross  sighed,  and  walked  round  to  the  other 
side  of  the  castle,  where  was  my  lady's  flower-garden,  or 
what  was  to  be  made  into  one.  Then  he  entered  by 
French  windows,  from  a  terrace  overlooking  it,  my  lord's 
library,  also  incomplete.  For  the  earl,  who  was  by  no 
means  a  bookish  man,  had  only  built  that  room  since  his 
marriage,  to  please  his  wife,  whom  perhaps  he  loved  all 
the  better  that  she  was  so  exceedingly  unlike  himself. 
Now  both  were  away — their  short  dream  of  married  life 
ended,  their  plans  and  hopes  crumbled  into  dust.  As 
yet,  no  external  changes  had  been  made,  the  other  sol- 
emn changes  having  come  so  suddenly.  Gardeners  still 
worked  in  the  parterres,  and  masons  and  carpenters  still, 
in  a  quiet  and  lazy  manner,  went  on  completing  the 
beautiful  room ;  but  there  was  no  one  to  order  them — no 
one  watched  their  work.  Except  for  workmen,  the  place 
seemed  so  deserted  that  Mr.  Cardross  wandered  through 
the  house  for  some  time  before  he  found  a  single  servant 
to  direct  him  to  the  person  of  whom  he  was  in  search. 

Mr.  Menteith  sat  alone  in  a  little  room  filled  with  guns 
and  fishing-rods,  and  ornamented  with  stag's  heads,  stuff- 
ed birds,  and  hunting  relics  of  all  sorts,  which  had  been 


12  A  Noble  Life. 

called,  not  too  appropriately,  the  earl's  "  study."  He  was 
a  little,  dried-up  man,  about  fifty  years  old,  of  sharp  but 
not  unkindly  aspect.  When  the  minister  entered,  he 
looked  up  from  the  mass  of  papers  which  he  seemed  to 
have  been  trying  to  reduce  into  some  kind  of  order — ap- 
parently the  late  earl's  private  papers,  which  had  been 
untouched  since  his  death,  for  there  was  a  sad  and  seri- 
ous shadow  over  what  would  otherwise  have  been  rather 
a  humorous  face. 

"Welcome,  Mr.  Cardross ;  I  am  indeed  glad  to  see  you. 
I  took  the  liberty  of  sending  for  you,  since  you  are  the 
only  person  with  whom  I  can  consult — we  can  consult,  I 
should  say,  for  Dr.  Hamilton  wished  it  likewise — on  this 
— this  most  painful  occasion." 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  be  of  the  slightest  service," 
returned  Mr.  Cardross.  "  I  had  the  utmost  respect  for 
those  that  are  away."  He  had  a  habit,  this  tender-heart- 
ed, pious  man,  who,  with  all  his  learning,  kept  a  religious 
faith  as  simple  as  a  child's,  of  always  speaking  of  the 
dead  as  only  "away." 

The  two  gentlemen  sat  down  together.  They  had  oft- 
en met  before,  for  whenever  there  were  guests  at  Cairn  - 
forth  Castle  the  earl  always  invited  the  minister  and  his 
wife  to  dinner,  but  they  had  never  fraternized  milch. 
Now,  a  common  sympathy,  nay,  more,  a  common  grief 
— for  something  beyond  sympathy,  keen  personal  regret, 
was  evidently  felt  by  both  for  the  departed  earl  and 
countess — made  them  suddenly  familiar. 

"Is  the  child  doing  well?"  was  Mr. Cardross's  first  and 
most  natural  question ;  but  it  seemed  to  puzzle  Mr.  Men- 
teith  exceedingly. 


A  Noble  Life.  13 

"I  suppose  so — indeed,!  can  hardly  say.  This  is  a 
most  difficult  and  painful  matter." 

"  It  was  born  alive,  and  is  a  son  and  heir,  as  I  heard?" 

"Yes." 

"  That  is  fortunate." 

"  For  some  things  ;  since,  had  it  been  a  girl,  the  title 
would  have  lapsed,  and  the  long  line  of  Earls  of  Cairn- 
forth  ended.  At  one  time  Dr.  Hamilton  feared  the  child 
would  be  stillborn,  and  then,  of  course,  the  earldom  would 
have  been  extinct.  The  property  must  in  that  case  have 
passed  to  the  earl's  distant  cousins,  the  Bruces,  of  whom 
you  may  have  heard,  Mr.  Cardross?" 

"  I  have ;  and  there  are  few  things,  I  fancy,  which  Lord 
Cairnforth  would  have  regretted  more  than  such  heir- 
ship." 

"You  are  right,"  said  the  keen  W.  S.,  evidently  re- 
lieved. "  It  was  my  instinctive  conviction  that  you  were 
in  the  late  earl's  confidence  on  this  point,  which  made  me 
decide  to  send  and  consult  with  you.  We  must  take  all 
precautions,  you  see.  We  are  placed  in  a  most  painful 
and  responsible  position — both  Dr.  Hamilton  and  myself." 

It  was  now  Mr.  Cardross's  turn  to  look  perplexed.  No 
doubt  it  was  a  most  sad  fatality  which  had  happened,  but 
still  things  did  not  seem  to  warrant  the  excessive  anxiety 
testified  by  Mr.  Menteith. 

"I  do  not  quite  comprehend  you.  There  might  have 
been  difficulties  as  to  the  succession,  but  are  they  not  all 
solved  by  the  birth  of  a  healthy,  living  heir — whom  we 
must  cordially  hope  will  long  continue  to  live?" 

"  I  hardly  know  if  we  ought  to  hope  it,"  said  the  law- 
yer, very  seriously.  "But  we  must  'keep  a  calm  sough' 


14  A  Noble  Life. 

on  that  matter  for  the  present — so  far,  at  least,  Dr.  Ham- 
ilton and  I  have  determined  —  in  order  to  prevent  the 
Bruces  from  getting  wind  of  it.  Now,  then,  will  you 
come  and  see  the  earl?" 

"  The  earl  1"  re-echoed  Mr.  Cardross,  with  a  start ;  then 
recollected  himself,  and  sighed  to  think  how  one  goes  and 
another  comes,  and  all  the  world  moves  on  as  before — 
passing,  generation  after  generation,  into  the  awful  shad- 
ow which  no  eye  except  that  of  faith  can  penetrate.  Life 
N  is  a  little,  little  day — hardly  longer,  in  the  end,  for  the 
man  in  his  prime  than  for  the  infant  of  an  hour's  span. 

And  the  minister,  who  was  of  meditative  mood,  thought 
to  himself  much  as  a  poet  half  a  century  later  put  into 
words  —  thoughts  common  to  all  men,  but  which  only 
such  a  man  and  such  a  poet  could  have  crystallized  into 
four  such  perfect  lines : 

"  Thou  wilt  not  leave  us  in  the  dust : 

Thou  madest  man,  he  knows  not  why ; 
He  thinks  he  was  not  made  to  die, 
And  Thou  hast  made  him — Thou  art  just." 

Thus  musing,  Mr.  Cardross  followed  up  stairs  toward 
the  magnificent  nursery,  which  had  been  prepared  months 
before,  with  a  loving  eagerness  of  anticipation,  and  a  mer- 
ciful blindness  to  futurity,  for  the  expected  heir  of  the 
Earls  of  Cairnforth.  For,  as  before  said,  the  only  hope 
of  the  lineal  continuance  of  the  race  was  in  this  one  child. 
It  lay  in  a  cradle  resplendent  with  white  satin  hangings 
and  lace  curtains,  and  beside  it  sat  the  nurse  —  a  mere 
girl,  but  a  widow  already — Neil  Campbell's  widow,  whose 
first  child  had  been  born  only  two  days  after  her  husband 
was  drowned.  Mr.  Cardross  knew  that  she  had  been  sud- 


A  Noble  Life.  15 

denly  sent  for  out  of  the  clachan,  the  countess  having, 
with  her  dying  breath,  desired  that  this  young  woman, 
whose  circumstances  were  so  like  her  own,  should  be 
taken  as  wet-nurse  to  the  new-born  baby. 

So,  in  her  widow's  weeds,  grave  and  sad,  but  very 
sweet-looking — she  had  been  a  servant  at  the  Castle,  and 
was  a  rather  superior  young  woman — Janet  Campbell 
took  her  place  beside  her  charge  with  an  expression  in 
her  face  as  if  she  felt  it  was  a  charge  left  her  by  her  lost 
mistress,  which  must  be  kept  solemnly  to  the  end  of  her 
days — as  it  was. 

The  minister  shook  hands  with  her  silently — she  had 
gone  through  sore  affliction — but  the  lawyer  addressed 
her  in  his  quick,  sharp,  business  tone,  under  which  he 
often  disguised  more  emotion  than  he  liked  to  show. 

"You  have  not  been  dressing  the  child?  Dr. Hamil- 
ton told  you  not  to  attempt  it." 

"Na,  na,  sir,  I  didna  try,"  answered  Janet,  sadly  and 
gently. 

"  That  was  well.  I'm  a  father  of  a  family  myself," 
added  Mr.  Menteith,  more  gently  :  "  I've  six  of  them  ; 
but,  thank  the  Lord,  ne'er  a  one  of  them  like  this.  Take 
it  on  your  lap,  nurse,  and  let  the  minister  look  at  it !  Ay, 
here  comes  Dr.  Hamilton !" 

Mr.  Cardross  knew  Dr.  Hamilton  by  repute — as  who 
did  not?  since  at  that  period  it  was  the  widest-known 
name  in  the  whole  medical  profession  in  Scotland.  And 
the  first  sight  of  him  confirmed  the  reputation,  and  made 
even  a  stranger  recognize  that  his  fame  was  both  natural 
and  justifiable.  But  the  minister  had  scarcely  time  to 
cast  a  glance  on  the  acute,  benevolent,  wonderfully  pow- 


16  A  Noble  Life. 

erful  and  thoughtful  head,  when  his  attention  was  attract- 
ed by  the  poor  infant,  whom  Janet  was  carefully  unswath- 
ing from  innumerable  folds  of  cotton  wool. 

Mrs.  Campbell  was  a  widow  of  only  a  month,  and  her 
mistress,  to  whom  she  had  been  much  attached,  lay  dead 
in  the  next  room,  yet  she  had  still  a  few  tears  left,  and 
they  were  dropping  like  rain  over  her  mistress's  child. 

No  wonder.  It  lay  on  her  lap,  the  smallest,  saddest 
specimen  of  infantile  deformity.  It  had  a  large  head — 
larger  than  most  infants  have — but  its  body  was  thin,  elf- 
ish, and  distorted,  every  joint  and  limb  being  twisted  in 
some  way  or  other.  You  could  not  say  that  any  portion 
of  the  child  was  natural  or  perfect  except  the  head  and 
face.  Whether  it  had  the  power  of  motion  or  not  seem- 
ed doubtful;  at  any  rate,  it  made  no  attempt  to  move, 
except  feebly  turning  its  head  from  side  to  side.  It  lay, 
with  its  large  eyes  wide  open,  and  at  last  opened  its  poor 
little  mouth  also,  and  uttered  a  loud  pathetic  wail. 

"It  greets,  doctor,  ye  hear,"  said  the  nurse,  eagerly; 
"  'deed,  an'  it  greets  fine,  whiles." 

"A  good  sign,"  observed  Dr.  Hamilton.  "Perhaps  it 
may  live  after  all,  though  one  scarcely  knows  whether  to 
desire  it." 

"  I'll  gar  it  live,  doctor,"  cried  Janet,  as  she  rocked  and 
patted  it,  and  at  last  managed  to  lay  it  to  her  motherly 
breast ;  "  I'll  gar  it  live,  ye'll  see  !  That  is,  God  will- 


ing." 


"It  could  not  live,  it  could  never  have  lived  at  all,  if 
lie  were  not  willing,"  said  the  minister,  reverently.  And 
then,  after  a  long  pause,  during  which  he  and  the  two 
other  gentlemen  stood  watching,  with  sad  pitying  looks, 


A  Nolle  Life.  17 

the  unfortunate  child,  lie  added,  so  quietly  and  naturally 
that,  though,  they  might  have  thought  it  odd,  they  could 
hardly  have  thought  it  out  of  place  or  hypocritical,  "  Let 
us  pray." 

It  was  a  habit,  long  familiar  to  this  good  Presbyterian 
minister,  who  went  in  and  out  among  his  parishioners  as 
their  pastor  and  teacher,  consoler  and  guide.  Many  a 
time,  in  many  a  cottage,  had  he  knelt  down,  just  as  he 
did  here,  in  the  midst  of  deep  affliction,  and  said  a  few 
simple  words,  as  from  children  to  a  father — the  Father 
of  all  men.  And  the  beginning  and  end  of  his  prayer 
Was,  now  as  always,  the  expression  and  experience  of  his 
own  entire  faith — "  Thy  will  be  done." 

"But  what  ought  we  to  do?"  said  the  Edinburg  writ- 
er, when,  having  quitted,  not  unmoved,  the  melancholy 
nursery,  he  led  the  way  to  the  scarcely  less  dreary  din- 
ing-room, where  the  two  handsome,  bright-looking  por- 
traits of  the  late  earl  and  countess  still  smiled  down  from 
the  wall — giving  Mr.  Cardross  a  start,  and  making  him 
recall,- as  if  the  intervening  six  weeks  had  been  all  a 
dream,  the  last  day  he  and  Mr.  Menteith  dined  together 
at  that  hospitable  table.  They  stole  a  look  at  one  anoth- 
er, but,  with  true  Scotch  reticence,  neither  exchanged  a 
word.  Yet  perhaps  each  respected  the  other  the  more, 
both  for  the  feeling  and  for  its  instant  repression. 

"  Whatever  we  decide  to  do,  ought  to  be  decided  now," 
said  Dr.  Hamilton,  "for  I  must  be  in  Edinburg  to-mor- 
row. And,  besides,  it  is  a  case  in  which  no  medical  skill 
is  of  much  avail,  if  any:  Nature  must  struggle  through — 
or  yield,  which  I  can  not  help  thinking  would  be  the  best 
ending.  In  Sparta,  now,  this  poor  child  would  have  been 


18  A  Nolle  Life. 

exposed  on  Mount — what  was  the  place  ?  to  be  saved  by 
any  opportune  death  from  the  still  greater  misfortune  of 
living." 

"But  that  would  have  been  murder — sheer  murder," 
earnestly  replied  the  minister.  "  And  we  are  not  Spar- 
tans, but  Christians,  to  whom  the  body  is  not  every  thing, 
and  who  believe  that  God  can  work  out  His  wonderful 
will,  if  He  chooses,  through  the  meanest  means — through 
the  saddest  tragedies  and  direst  misfortunes.  In  one 
sense,  Dr.  Hamilton,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  evil — that 
is,  there  is  no  actual  evil  in  the  world  except  sin." 

"  There  is  plenty  of  that,  alas !"  said  Mr.  Menteith. 
"  But  as  to  the  child,  I  wished  you  to  see  it — both  of  you 
together — if  only  to  bear  evidence  as  to  its  present  con- 
dition. For  the  late  earl,  in  his  will,  executed,  by  a  most 
providential  chance,  the  last  time  I  was  here,  appointed 
me  sole  guardian  and  trustee  to  a  possible  widow  or  child. 
On  me,  therefore,  depends  the  charge  of  this  poor  infant 
• — the  sole  bar  between  those  penniless,  grasping,  alto- 
gether discreditable  Bruces,  and  the  large  property  of 
Cairnforth.  You  see  my  position,  gentlemen?" 

It  was  not  an  easy  one,  and  no  wonder  the  honest  man 
looked  much  troubled. 

"I  need  not  say  that  I  never  sought  it — never  thought 
it  possible  it  would  really  fall  to  my  lot ;  but  it  has  fall- 
en, and  I  must  discharge  it  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  You 
see  what  the  earl  is — born  alive,  anyhow — though  we 
can  hardly  wish  him  to  survive." 

The  three  gentlemen  were  silent.  At  length  Mr.  Car- 
dross  said, 

"  There  is  one  worse  doubt  which  has  occurred  to  me. 


A  Nolle  Life.  19 

Do  you  think,  Dr.  Hamilton,  that  the  mind  is  as  imperfect 
as  the  body?  In  short,  is  it  not  likely  that  the  poor 
child  may  turn  out  to  be  an  idiot?" 

"  I  do  not  know ;  and  it  will  be  almost  impossible  to 
judge  for  months  yet." 

"But,  idiot  or  not,"  cried  Mr. Menteith— a  regular  old 
Tory,  who  clung  with  true  conservative  veneration  to  the 
noble  race  which  he,  his  father,  and  grandfather  had 
served  faithfully  for  a  century  and  more — "idiot  or  not, 
the  boy  is  undoubtedly  Earl  of  Cairnforth." 

"Poor  child!" 

The  gentlemen  then  sat  down  and  thoroughly  discuss- 
ed the  whole  matter,  finally  deciding  that,  until  things 
appeared  somewhat  plainer,  it  was  advisable  to  keep  the 
earl's  condition  as  much  as  possible  from  the  world  in 
general,  and  more  especially  from  his  own  kindred.  The 
Braces,  who  lived  abroad,  would,  it  was  naturally  to  be 
concluded — or  Mr.  Menteith,  who  had  a  lawyer's  slender 
faith  in  human  nature,  believed  so — would  pounce  down, 
like  eagles  upon  a  wounded  lamb,  the  instant  they  heard 
what  a  slender  thread  of  life  hung  between  them  and 
these  great  possessions. 

Under  such  circumstances,  for  the  infant  to  be  left  un- 
protected in  the  solitudes  of  Loch  Beg  was  very  unadvis- 
able ;  and,  besides,  it  was  the  guardian's  duty  to  see  that 
every  aid  which  medical  skill  and  surgical  science  could 
procure  was  supplied  to  a  child  so  afflicted,  and  upon 
whose  life  so  much  depended.  He  therefore  proposed, 
and  Dr.  Hamilton  agreed,  that  immediately  after  the  fu- 
neral the  little  earl  should  be  taken  to  Edinburg,  and 
placed  in  the  house  of  the  latter,  to  remain  there  a  year 
or  two,  or  so  long  as  might  be  necessary. 


£0  A  Nolle  Life. 

Janet  Campbell  was  called  in,  and  expressed  herself 
willing  to  take  her  share — no  small  one — in  the  respon- 
sibility of  this  plan,  if  the  minister  would  see  to  her  "-am 
bairn ;"  that  was,  if  the  minister  really  thought  the  scheme 
a  wise  one. 

"The  minister's  opinion  seems  to  carry  great  weight 
here,"  said  Dr.  Hamilton,  smiling. 

And  it  was  so ;  not  merely  because  of  his  being  a  min- 
ister, but  because,  with  all  his  gentle,  unassuming  ways, 
he  had  an  excellent  judgment — the  clear,  sound,  unbi- 
ased judgment  which  no  man  can  ever  attain  to  except  a 
man  who  thinks  little  of  himself;  to  whom  his  own  hon- 
or and  glory  corne  ever  second,  and  his  Master's  glory 
and  service  first.  Therefore,  both  as  a  man  and  a  minis- 
ter, Mr.  Cardross  was  equally  and  wholly  reliable :  char- 
itable, because  he  felt  his  own  infirmities ;  placing  him- 
self at  no  higher  level  than  his  neighbor,  he  was  always 
calmly  and  scrupulously  just.  Though  a  learned,  he  was 
not  exactly  a  clever  man :  probably  his  sermons,  preach- 
ed every  Sunday  for  the  last  ten  years  in  Cairnforth  Kirk, 
were  neither  better  nor  worse  than  the  generality  of 
country  sermons ;  but  that  matters  little.  He  was  a  wise 
man  and  a  good  man,  and  all  his  parishioners,  scattered 
over  a  parish  of  fourteen  Scotch  miles,  deeply  and  dearly 
loved  him. 

"  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Cardross,  "  that  this  plan  has  many 
advantages,  and  is,  under  the  circumstances,  the  best  that 
could  have  been  devised.  True,  I  should  like  to  have 
had  the  poor  babe  under  my  own  eye  and  my  wife's,  that 
we  might  try  to  requite  in  some  degree  the  many  kind- 
nesses we  have  received  from  his  poor  father  and  moth- 


A  Noble  Life.  21 

er ;  but  he  will  be  better  off  in  Edinburg.  Give  him  ev- 
ery possible  chance  of  life  and  health,  and  a  sound  mind, 
and  then  we  must  leave  the  rest  to  Him,  who  would  not 
have  sent  this  poor  little  one  into  the  world  at  all  if  He 
had  not  had  some  purpose  in  so  doing,  though  what  that 
purpose  is  we  can  not  see.  I  suppose  we  shall  see  it,  and 
many  other  dark  things,  some  time." 

The  minister  lifted  his  grave,  gentle  eyes,  and  sat  look- 
ing out  upon  the  familiar  view — the  sunsfiiny  loch,  -the 
green  shore,  and  the  far-away  circle  of  mountains — while  . 
the  other  two  gentlemen  discussed  a  few  other  business 
matters.  Then  he  invited  them  both  to  return  with  him 
and  dine  at  the  Manse,  where  he  and  his  wife  were  accus- 
tomed to  offer  to  all  comers,  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor, 
"  hospitality  without  grudging." 

So  the  three  walked  through  Cairnforth  woods,  now 
glowing  with  full  spring  beauty,  and  wandered  about  the 
minister's  garden  till  dinner-time.  It  was  a  very  simple 
meal — -just  the  ordinary  family  dinner,  as  it  was  spread 
day  after  day,  all  the  year  round  :  they  could  afford  hos- 
pitality, but  show,  with  the  minister's  limited  income,  was 
impossible,  and  he  was  too  honest  to  attempt  it,  Many 
a  time  the  earl  himself  had  dined,  merrily  and  heartily, 
at  that  simple  table,  with  the  mistress — active,  energetic, 
cheerful,  and  refined — sitting  at  the  head  of  it,  and  the 
children,  a  girl  and  boy,  already  admitted  to  take  their 
place  there,  quiet  and  well-behaved — brought  up  from 
the  first  to  be,  like  their  parents,  gentlemen  and  gentle-/ 
women.  The  Manse  table  was  a  perfect  picture  of  fami-/ 
ly  sunshine  and  family  peace,  and,  as  such,  the  two  Edin- 
burg guests  carried  away  the  impression  of  it  in  their 
memories  for  many  a  day. 


22  A  Noble  Life. 

In  another  week  a  second  stately  funeral  passed  out  of 
the  Castle  doors,  and  then  they  were  closed  to  all  com- 
ers. By  Mr.  Menteith's  orders,  great  part  of  the  rooms 
were  shut  up,  and  only  two  apartments  kept  for  his  own 
use  when  he  came  down  to  look  after  the  estates.  It 
was  now  fully  known  that  he  was  the  young  earl's  sole 
guardian ;  but  so  great  was  the  feudal  fidelity  of  the 
neighborhood,  and  so  entire  the  respect  with  which,  dur- 
ing an  administration  of  many  years,  the  factor  had  im- 
bued the  Cairnforth  tenantry,  that  not  a  word  was  said 
in  objection  either  to  him  or  to  his  doings.  There  was 
great  regret  that  the  poor  little  earl — the  representative 
of  so  long  and.honored  a  race — was  taken  away  from  the 
admiration  of  the  country-side  before  even  a  single  soul 
in  the  parish,  except  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cardross,  had  set  eyes 
upon  him ;  but  still  the  disappointed  gossips  submitted, 
considering  that  if  the  minister  were  satisfied  all  must  bo 
right. 

After  the  departure  of  Mr.  Menteith,  Mrs.  Campbell, 
and  her  charge,  a  few  rumors  got  abroad  that  the  little 
earl  was  "  no  a7  richt" — if  an  earl  could  be  "  no  richt" — 
which  the  simple  folk  about  Loch  Beg  and  Loch  Mhor, 
accustomed  for  generations  to  view  the  Earls  of  Cairn- 
forth much  as  the  Thibetians  view  their  Dalai  Lama, 
thought  hardly  possible.  But  what  was  wrong  with  him 
nobody  precisely  knew.  The  minister  did,  it  was  con- 
jectured; but  Mr.  Cardross  was  scrupulously  silent  on 
the  subject ;  and,  with  all  his  gentleness,  he  was  the  sort 
of  man  to  whom  nobody  ever  could  address  intrusive  or 
impertinent  questions. 

So,  after  a  while,  when  the  Castle  still  remained  shut 


A  Nolle  Life.  23 

up,  curiosity  died  out,  or  was  only  roused  at  intervals, 
especially  at  Mr.  Menteith's  periodical  visits.  And  to  all 
questions,  whether  respectfully  anxious  or  merely  inquis- 
itive, he  never  gave  but  one  answer — that  the  earl  was 
"  doing  pretty  well,"  and  would  be  back  at  Cairnforth 
"some  o'  these  days." 

However,  that  period  was  so  long  deferred  that  the 
neighbors  at  last  ceased  to  expect  it,  or  to  speculate  con- 
cerning it.  They  went  about  their  own  affairs,  and  soon 
the  whole  ^tory  about  the  sad  death  of  the  late  earl  and 
countess,  and  the  birth  of  the  present  nobleman,  began  to 
be  told  simply  as  a  story  by  the  elder  folk,  and  slipped 
out  of  the  younger  ones'  memories — as,  if  one  only  al- ) 
lows  it  time,  every  tale,  however  sad,  wicked,  or  strange,  - 
will  very  soon  do.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  silent,  shut- 
up  castle,  standing  summer  and  winter  on  the  loch-side, 
with  its  flower-gardens  blossoming  for  none  to  gather, 
and  its  woods — the  pride  of  the  whole  country — budding 
and  withering,  with  scarcely  a  foot  to  cross,  or  an  eye  to 
notice  their  wonderful  beauty,  people  would  ere  long 
have  forgotten  the  very  existence  of  the  last  Earl  of 
Cairnforth. 


>m&. 


IT  was  on  a  June  day — ten  years  after  that  bright  June 
day  when  the  minister  of  Cairnforth  had  walked  with 
such  a  sad  heart  up  to  Cairnforth  Castle,  and  seen  for  the 
first  time  its  unconscious  heir  —  the  poor  little  orphan 
baby,  who  in  such  apparent  mockery  was  called  "  the 
Earl."  The  woods,  the  hills,  the  loch,  looked  exactly  the 
same— nature  never  changes.  As  Mr.  Cardross  walked 
up  to  the  Castle  once  more  —  the  first  time  for  many 
months — in  accordance  with  a  request  of  Mr.  Menteith's, 
who  had  written  to  say  the  earl  was  coming  home,  he 
could  hardly  believe  it  was  ten  years  since  that  sad  week 
when  the  baby-heir  was  born,  and  the  countess's  funeral 
had  passed  out  from  that  now  long-closed  door. 

Mr.  Cardross's  step  was  heavier  and  his  face  sadder 
now  than  then.  He  who  had  so  often  sympathized  with 
others'  sorrows  had  had  to  suffer  patiently  his  own.  From 
the  Manse  gate  as  from  that  of  the  Castle,  the  mother  and 
mistress  had  been  carried,  never  to  return.  A  new  Hel- 
en— only  fifteen  years  old — was  trying  vainly  to  replace 
to  father  and  brothers  her  who  was — as  Mr.  Cardross  still 
touchingly  put  it — u  away."  But,  though  his  grief  was 
more  than  a  year  old,  the  minister  mourned  still.  His 
was  one  of  those  quiet  natures  which  make  no  show,  and 
trouble  no  one,  yet  in  which  sorrow  goes  deep  down,  and 


28  A  Noble  Life. 

grows  into  the  heart,  as  it  were,  becoming  a  part  of  exist- 
ence, until  existence  itself  shall  cease. 

It  did  not,  however,  hinder  him  from  doing  all  his  or- 
dinary duties,  perhaps  with  even  closer  persistence,  as  he 
felt  himself  sinking  into  that  indifference  to  outside  things 
which  is  the  inevitable  result  of  a  heavy  loss  upon  any 
gentle  nature.  The  fierce  rebel  against  it ;  the  impetu- 
ous and  impatient  throw  it  off;  but  the  feeble  and  ten- 
der souls  make  no  sign,  only  quietly  pass  into  that  state 
which  the  outer  world  calls  submission  and  resignation, 
yet  which  is,  in  truth,  mere  passiveness — the  stolid  calm 
of  a  creature  that  has  suffered  till  it  can  suffer  no  more. 

The  first  thing  which  roused  Mr.  Cardross  out  of  this 
condition,  or  at  least  the  uneasy  recognition  that  it  was 
fast  approaching,  and  must  be  struggled  against,  consci- 
entiously, to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  was  Mr.  Menteith's 
letter,  and  the  request  therein  concerning  Lord  Cairn- 
forth. 

Without  entering  much  into  particulars — it  was  not 
the  way  of  the  cautious  lawyer — he  had  stated  that,  after 
ten  years'  residence  in  Dr.  Hamilton's  house,  and  numer- 
ous consultations  with  every  surgeon  of  repute  in  Scot- 
land, England — nay,  Europe — it  had  been  decided,  and 
especially  at  the  earnest  entreaty  of  the  poor  little  earl 
himself,  to  leave  him  to  Nature ;  to  take  him  back  to  his 
native  air,  and  educate  him,  so  far  as  was  possible,  in 
Cairnforth  Castle. 

A  suitable  establishment  had  accordingly  been  pro- 
vided— more  servants,  and  a  lady  housekeeper  or  gouv- 
crnante,  who  took  all  external  charge  of  the  child,  while 
the  personal  care  of  him  was  left,  as  before,  to  his  nurse, 


A  Noble  Life.  29 

Mrs.  Campbell,  now  wholly  devoted  to  him,  for  at  seven 
years  old  her  own  boy  had  died.  He  had  another  at- 
tendant, to  whom,  with  a  curious  persistency,  he  had 
strongly '  attached  himself  ever  since  his  babyhood  — 
young  Malcolm  Campbell,  Neil  Campbell's  brother,  who 
was  saved  by  clinging  to  the  keel  of  the  boat  when  the 
late  Lord  Cairnforth  was  drowned.  Beyond  these,  whose 
fond  fidelity  knew  no  bounds,  there  was  hardly  need  of 
any  other*  person  to  take  charge  of  the  little  earl,  except 
a  tutor,  and  that  office  Mr.  Menteith  entreated  Mr.  Car- 
dross  to  accept. 

It  was  a  doubtful  point  with  the  minister.  He  shrank 
from  assuming  any  new  duty,  his  daily  duties  being  now 
made  only  too  heavy  by  the  loss  of  the  wife  who  had 
shared  and  lightened  them  all.  But  he  named  the  mat- 
ter to  Helen,  whom  he  had  lately  got  into  the  habit  of 
consulting — she  was  such  a  wise  little  woman  for  her  age 
— and  Helen  said  anxiously,  "  Papa,  try."  Besides,  there 
were  six  boys  to  be  brought  up,  and  put  into  the  world 
somehow,  and  the  Manse  income  was  small,  and  the  sala- 
ry offered  by  Mr.  Menteith  very  considerable.  So  when, 
the  second  time,  Helen's  great  soft  eyes  implored  silent- 
ly, "  Papa,  please  try,"  the  minister  kissed  her,  went  into 
his  study  and  wrote  to  Edinburg  his  acceptance  of  the 
office  of  tutor  to  Lord  Cairnforth. 

What  sort  of  office  it  would  turn  out — what  kind  of 
instruction  he  was  expected  to  give,  or  how  much  the 
young  earl  was  capable  of  receiving,  he  had  not  the  least 
idea ;  but  he  resolved  that,  in  any  case,  he  would  do  his 
duty,  and  neither  man  nor  minister  could  be  expected  to 
do  more. 


30  A  Noble  Life. 

In  pursuance  of  this  resolution,  he  roused  himself  that 
sunny  June  morning,  when  he  would  far  rather  have  sat 
over  his  study-fire  and  let  the  world  go  on  without  him 
— as  he  felt  it  would,  easily  enough — and  walked  down 
to  the  Castle,  where,  for  the  first  time  these  ten  years, 
windows  were  opened  and  doors  unbarred,  and  the  sweet 
Jight  and  warm  air  of  day  let  in  upon  those  long-shut 
rooms,  which  seemed,  in  their  dumb,  inanimate  way,  glad 
to  be  happy  again— glad  to  be  made  of  use  once  more. 
Even  the  ^portraits  of  the  late  earl  and  countess — he  in 
his  Highland  dress,  and  she  in  her  white  satin  and  pearls 
— both  so  young  and  bright,  as  they  looked  on  the  day 
they  were  married,  seemed  to  gaze  back  at  each  other 
from  either  side  the  long  dining-room,  as  if  to  say,  re- 
joicingly, "  Our  son  is  coming  home." 

"Have  you  seen  the  earl?"  said  Mr.  Cardross  to  one 
of  the  new  servants  who  attended  him  round  the  rooms, 
listening  respectfully  to  all  the  remarks  and  suggestions . 
as  to  furniture  and  the  like  which  Mr.  Menteith  had  re- 
quested him  to  make.  The  minister  was  always  special- 
ly popular  with  servants  and  inferiors  of  every  sort,  for 
he  possessed,  in  a  remarkable  degree,  that  best  key  to 
their  hearts,  the  gentle  dignity  which  never  needs  to  as- 
sert a  superiority  that  is  at  once  felt  and  acknowledged. 

" The  earl,  sir?  ISTa,  na" — with  a  mysterious  shake  of 
«*ie  ^-ead  —  "naebody  sees  the  earl.  Some  say — but  I 
hae  nae  cause  to  think  it  mysel' — that  he's  no  a'  there." 

The  minister  was  sufficiently  familiar  with  that  queer, 
but  very  expressive  Scotch  phrase,  "  not  all  there,"  to 
pursue  no  farther  inquiries.  But  he  sighed,  and  wished 
he  had  delayed  a  little  before  undertaking  the  tutorship. 


A  Noble  Life.  31 

However,  the  matter  was  settled  now,  and  Mr.  Cardross 
was  not  the  man  ever  to  draw  back  from  an  agreement 
or  shrink  from  a  promise. 

"Whatever  the  poor  child  is — even  if  an  idiot,"  thought 
he,  "I  will  do  my  best  for  him,  for  his  father's  and  moth- 
er's sake." 

And  he  paused  several  minutes  before  those  bright 
and  smiling  portraits,  pondering  on  the  mysterious  deal- 
ings of  the  great  Kuler  of  the  universe — how  some  are 
taken  and  some  are  left :  those  removed  who  seem  most  / 
happy  and  most  needed ;  those  left  behind  whom  it  would 
have  appeared,  in  our  dim  and  short-sighted  judgment, 
a  mercy,  both  to  themselves  and  others,  quietly  to  havo 
taken  away. 

But  one  thing  the  minister  did  in  consequence  of  these 
somewhat  sad  and  painful  musings.  On  his  return  to  the 
clachan — where,  of  course,  the  news  of  the  earl's  coming 
home  had  long  spread,  and  thrown  the  whole  country- 
side into  a  state  of  the  greatest  excitement — he  gave  or- 
ders, or  at  least  advice — which  was  equivalent  to  orders,^/ 
since  every  body  obeyed  him — that  there  should  be  no 
special  rejoicings  on  the  earl's  coming  home;  no  bonfire 
on  the  hill-side,  or  triumphal  arches  across  the  road,  and 
at  the  ferry  where  the  young  earl  would  probably  land 
—  where,  ten  years  before,  the  late  Earl  of  Cairnforth 
had  been  not  landed,  but  carried,  stone-cold,  with  his  hair 
dripping,  and  his  dead  hands  still  clutching  the  weeds  of 
the  loch.  The  minister  vividly  recalled  the  sight,  and 
shuddered  at  it  still. 

"  No,  no,"  said  he,  in  talking  the  matter  over  with 
some  of  his  people,  whom  he  went  among  like  a  fathei 


32  A  Noble  Life. 

among  his  children,  true  pastor  of  a  most  loving  flock, 
"  no ;  we'll  wait  and  see  what  the  earl  would  like  before 
we  make  any  show.  That  we  are  glad  to  see  him  he 
knows  well  enough,  or  will  very  soon  find  out.  And  if 
he  should  arrive  on  such  a  night  as  this" — looking  round 
on  the  magnificent  June  sunset,  coloring  the  mountains 
at  the  head  of  the  loch — "  he  will  hardly  need  a  brighter 
welcome  to  a  bonnier  home." 

But  the  earl  did  not  arrive  on  a  gorgeous  evening  like 
this,  such  as  come  sometimes  to  the  shores  of  Loch  Beg, 
and  make  it  glow  into  a  perfect  paradise :  he  arrived  in 
"  saft"  weather — in  fact,  on  a  pouring  wet  Saturday  night, 
and  all  the  clachan  saw  of  him  was  the  outside  of  his  car- 
riage, driving,  with  closed  blinds,  down  the  hill-side.  He 
had  taken  a  long  round,  and  had  not  crossed  the  ferry ; 
and  he  was  carried  as  fast  as  possible  through  the  drip- 
ping wood,  reaching,  just  as  darkness  fell,  the  Castle 
door. 

Mr.  Cardross,  perhaps,  should  have  been  there  to  wel- 
come the  child — his  conscience  rather  smote  him  that  he 
was  not — but  it  was  the  minister's  unbroken  habit  of 
years  to  spend  Saturday  evening  alone  in  his  study. 
And  it  might  be  that,  with  a  certain  timidity,  inherent  in 
his  character,  he  shrank  from  this  first  meeting,  and  wish- 
ed to  put  off  as  long  as  possible  what  must  inevitably  be 
awkward,  and  might  be  very  painful.  So,  in  darkness 
and  rain,  unwelcomed  save  by  his  own  servants,  most  of 
whom  even  had  never  yet  seen  him,  the  poor  little  earl 
came  to  his  ancestral  door. 

But  on  Sunday  morning  all  things  were  changed,  with 
one  of  those  sudden  changes  which  make  this  part  of 


A  Noble  Life.  33 

the  country  so  wonderfully  beautiful,  and  so  fascinating 
through  its  endless  variety. 

A  perfect  June  day,  with  the  loch  glittering  in  the  sun, 
and  the  hills  beyond  it  softly  outlined  with  the  indistinct- 
ness that  mountains  usually  wear  in  summer,  but  with 
the  soft  summer  coloring  too,  greenish-blue,  lilac,  and  sil- 
ver-gray varying  continually.  In  the  woods  behind, 
where  the  leaves  were  already  gloriously  green,  the  wood- 
pigeons  were  cooing,  and  the  blackbirds  and  mavises 
singing,  just  as  if  it  had  not  been  Sunday  morning,  or 
rather  as  if  they  knew  it  was  Sunday,  and  were  strain- 
ing their  tiny  throats  to  bless  the  Giver  of  sweet,  peace- 
ful, cheerful  Sabbath-days,  and  of  all  other  good  things, 
meant  for  man's  usage  and  delight. 

At  the  portico  of  Cairnforth  Castle,  for  the  first  time 
since  the  hearse  had  stood  there,  stood  a  carriage — one 
of  those  large,  roomy,  splendid  family  carriages  which 
were  in  use  many  years  ago.  Looking  at  it,  no  passer- 
by could  have  the  slightest  doubt  that  it  was  my  lord's 
Eoach,  and  that  my  lord  sat  therein  in  solemn  state,  ex- 
acting and  receiving  an  amount  of  respect  little  short  of 
veneration,  such  as,  for  generations,  the  whole  country- 
side had  always  paid  to  the  Earls  of  Cairnforth.  This 
coach,  though  it  was  the  identical  family  coach,  had  been 
newly  furnished ;  its  crimson  satin  glowed,  and  its  silver 
harness  and  ornaments  flashed  in  the  sun ;  the  coachman 
sat  in  his  place,  and  two  footmen  stood  up  in  their  places 
behind.  It  was  altogether  a  very  splendid  affair,  as  be- 
came the  equipage  of  a  young  nobleman  who  was  known 
to  possess  twenty  thousand  a  year,  and  who,  from  his  cas- 
tle tower — it  had  a  tower,  though  nobody  ever  climbed 

B2  " 


34  A  Noble  Life. 

there— might,  if  he  chose,  look  around  upon  miles  and 
miles  of  moorland,  loch,  hill-side,  and  cultivated  land,  and 
Bay  to  himself— or  be  said  to  by  his  nurse,  as  in  the  old 


"These  hills  and  these  vales,  from  this  tower  that  ye  see, 
They  all  shall  belong,  my  young  chieftain,  to-thee." 

The  horses  pawed  the  ground  for  several  minutes  of 
delay,  and  then  there  appeared  Mr.  Menteith,  followed  by 
Mrs.  Campbell,  who  was  quite  a  grand  lady  now,  in  silks 
and  satins,  but  with  the  same  sweet,  sad,  gentle  face.  The 
lawyer  and  she  stood  aside,  and  made  way  for  a  big,  stal- 
wart young  Highlander  of  about  one-and-twenty  or  there- 
abouts, who  carried  in  his  arms,  very  gently  and  careful- 
ly, wrapped  in  a  plaid,  even  although  it  was  such  a  mild 
spring  day,  what  looked  like  a  baby,  or  a  very  young 
child. 

"Stop  a  minute,  Malcolm." 

At  the  sound  of  that  voice,  which  was  not  an  infant's, 
though  it  was  thin,  and  sharp,  and  unnatural  rather  for 
a  boy,  the  big  Highlander  paused  immediately. 

"  Hold  me  up  higher ;  I  want  to  look  at  the  loch." 

"Yes,  my  lord." 

This,  then — this  poor  little  deformed  figure,  with  every 
limb  shrunken  and  useless,  and  every  joint  distorted,  the 
head  just  able  to  sustain  itself  and  turn  feebly  from  one 
side  to  the  other,  and  the  thin  white  hands  piteously 
twisted  and  helpless-looking — this,  then,  was  the  Earl  of 
Cairnforth. 

"It's  a  bonnie  loch,  Malcolm." 

"  It  looks  awfu'  bonnie  the  day,  my  lord." 


A  Noble  Life.  35 

"  And,"  almost  in  a  whisper,  "  was  it  just  there  my  fa- 
ther was  drowned  ?" 

"Yes,  my  lord." 

No  one  spoke  while  the  large,  intelligent  eyes,  which 
seemed  the  principal  feature  of  the  thin  face,  that  rested 
against  Malcolm's  shoulder,  looked  out  intently  upon  the 
loch. 

Mrs.  Campbell  pulled  her  veil  down  and  wept  a  little. 
People  said  Neil  Campbell  had  not  been  the  best  of  hus- 
bands to  her ;  but  he  was  her  husband  ;  and  she  had 
never  been  back  in  Cairnforth  till  now,  for  her  son  had 
lived,  died,  and  been  buried  away  in  Edinburg. 

At  last  Mr.  Menteith  suggested  that  the  kirk  bell  was 
beginning  to  ring. 

"  Yery  well ;  put  me  into  the  carriage." 

Malcolm  placed  him,  helpless  as  an  infant,  in  a  corner 
of  the  silken-padded  coach,  fitted  with  cushions  especial- 
ly suited  for  his  comfort.  There  he  sat,  in  his  black  vel- 
vet coat  and  point -lace  collar,  with  silk  stockings  and 
dainty  shoes  upon  the  poor  little  feet  that  never  had 
walked,  and  never  would  walk,  in  this  world.  The  one 
bit  of  him  that  could  be  looked  at  without  pain  was  his 
face,  inherited  from  his  beautiful  mother.  It  was  wan, 
pale,  and  much  older  than  his  years,  but  it  was  a  sweet 
face — a  lovely  face ;  so  patient,  thoughtful— ^Tay,  strange 
to  say,  content.  You  could  not  look  at  it  without  a  cer- 
tain sense  of  peace,  as  if  God,  in  taking  away  so  much, 
had  given  something — which  not  many  people  have — 
something  which  was  the  divine  answer  to  the  minister's 
prayer  over  the  two-days-old  child — "Thy  will  be  done." 

"  Are  you  comfortable,  my  lord  ?" 


36  A  Noble  Life. 

"  Quite,  thank  you,  Mr.  Menteith.  Stop  —  where  are 
you  going,  Malcolm?" 

"Just  to  the  kirk,  and  I'll  be  there  as  soon  as  your 
lordship." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  little  earl,  and  watched  with 
wistful  eyes  the  tall  Highlander  striding  across  brush- 
wood and  heather,  leaping  dikes  and  clearing  fences — 
the  very  embodiment  of  active,  vigorous  youth. 

Wistful  I  said  the  eyes  were,  and  yet  they  were  not 
sad.  "Whatever  thoughts  lay  hidden  in  that  boy's  mind 
— he  was  only  ten  years  old,  remember — they  were  cer- 
tainly not  thoughts  of  melancholy  or  despair.  "  God  tem- 
pers the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb,"  and  "  the  back  is  fitted 
to  the  burden,"  are  phrases  so  common  that  we  almost 
smile  to  repeat  them  or  believe  in  them,  and  yet  they  are 
true.  Any  one  whose  enjoyments  have  been  narrowed 
down  by  long  sickness  may  prove  their  truth  by  recol- 
lecting how  at  last  even  the  desire  for  impossible  pleas- 
ures passes  away.  And  in  this  case  the  deprivation  was 
not  sudden ;  the  child  had  been  born  thus  crippled,  and 
had  never  been  accustomed  to  any  other  sort  of  existence 
than  this.  What  thoughts,  speculations,  or  regrets  might 
have  passed,  through  his  mind,  or  whether  he  had  as  yet 
reflected  upon  his  own  condition  at  all,  those  about  him 
could  not  judge.  He  was  always  a  silent  child,  and  lat- 
terly had  grown  more  silent  than  ever.  It  was  this  si- 
lence, causing  a  fear  lest  the  too  rapidly  developing  mind 
might  affect  still  more  injuriously  the  imperfect  and  fee- 
ble body,  which  induced  his  guardian,  counseled  by  Dr. 
Hamilton,. to  try  a  total  change  of  life  by  sending  him 
home  to  the  shores  of  Loch  Beg. 


A  Noble  Life.  37 

One  thing  certainly  Mr.  Cardross  need  not  have  dread- 
ed— the  child  was  no  idiot.  An  intelligence,  precocious 
to  an  almost  painful  extent,  was  visible  in  that  poor  lit- 
tle face,  which  seemed  thirstingly  to  take  in  every  thing, 
and  to  let  nothing  escape  its  observation. 

The  carriage  drove  slowly  through  the  woods  and 
along  the  shore  of  the  loch,  Mr.  Menteith  and  Mrs.  Camp- 
bell sitting  opposite  to  the  earl,  not  noticing  him  much — 
even  as  a  child  he  was  sensitive  of  being  watched — but 
making  occasional  comments  on  the  scenery  and  other 
things. 

"There  is  the  kirk  tower;  I  mind  it  weel,"  said  Mrs. 
Campbell,  who  still  kept  some  accent  of  the  clachan, 
though,  like  many  Highlanders,  she  had  it  more  in  tone 
than  in  pronunciation,  and  often  spoke  almost  pure  En- 
glish, which,  indeed,  she  had  taken  pains  to  acquire,  lest 
she  might  be  transferred  from  her  charge  for  fear  of 
teaching  him  to  speak  as  a  young  nobleman  ought  not 
to  speak.  But  at  sight  of  her  native  place  some  touch 
of  the  old  tongue  returned. 

"  That  is  the  kirk,  nurse,  where  my  father  and  mother 
are  buried?" 

"  Yes,  my  lord." 

"  Will  there  be  many  people  there  ?  You  know  I 
never  went  to  church  but  once  before  in  all  my  life." 

"  Would  ye  like  not  to  go  now  ?  If  so,  I'll  turn  back 
with  ye  this  minute,  my  lamb — my  lord,  I  mean." 

"No,  thank  you,  nurse, I  like  to  go.  You  know  Mr. 
Menteith  promised  me  I  should  go  about  every  where  as 
soon  as  I  came  to  live  at  Cairnforth." 

"Every  where  you  like  that  is  not  too  much  trouble 


38  A  Noble  Life. 

to  your  lordship,"  said  Mr.  Menteith,  who  was  always  te- 
naciously careful  about  the  respect,  of  word  and  act,  that 
he  paid,  and  insisted  should  be  paid,  to  his  poor  young 
ward. 

"  Oh,  it's  no  trouble  to  me ;  Malcolm  takes  care  of  that. 
And  I  like  to  see  the  world.  If  you  and  Dr.  Hamilton 
would  have  let  me,  I  think  I  would  so  have  enjoyed  go- 
ing to  school  like  other  boys." 

"Would  you,  my  lord?"  answered  Mr.  Menteith,  com- 
passionately ;  but  Mrs.  Campbell,  who  never  could  bear 
that  pitying  look  and  tone  directed  toward  her  nursling, 
said,  a  little  sharply, 

"It's  better  as  it  is— dinna  ye  ken?  Far  mair  fitting 
for  his  lordship's  rank  and  position  that  he  should  get 
his  learning  all  by  himsel'  at  his  ain  castle,  and  with  his 
ain  tutor,  and  that  sic  a  gentleman  as  Mr.  Cardross — " 

"  What  is  Mr.  Cardross  like?" 

"  Ye'll  hear  him  preach  the  day." 

"  Will  he  teach  me  all  by  myself,  as  nurse  says?  Has 
he  any  children — any  boys,  like  me  ?" 

"  He  has  boys,"  said  Mr.  Menteith,  avoiding  more  ex- 
plicit information ;  for  with  a  natural,  if  mistaken  precau- 
tion, he  had  always  kept  his  own  sturdy,  stalwart  boys 
quite  out  of  the  way  of  the  poor  little  earl,  and  had  es- 
pecially cautioned  the  minister  to  do  the  same. 

" I  do  long  to  play  with  boys.     May  I?" 

"  If  you  wish  it,  my  lord." 

"  And  may  I  have  a  boat  on  that  beautiful  loch,  and 
be  rowed  about  just  where  I  please?  Malcolm  says  it 
would  not  shake  me  nearly  so  much  as  the  carriage. 
May  I  go  to  the  kirk  every  Sunday,  and  see  every  thing 


A  Noble  Life.  39 

and  every  body,  and  read  as  many  books  as  ever  I 
choose  ?  Oh,  how  happy  I  shall  be  !  —  as  happy  as  a 
king!" 

"  God  help  thee,  my  lamb !"  muttered  Mrs.  Campbell 
to  herself,  while  even  Mr.  Menteith  turned  his  face  sedu- 
lously toward  the  loch  and  took  snuff  violently. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  church  door,  where 
the  congregation  were  already  gathering  and  hanging 
about,  as  Scotch  congregations  do,  till  service  begins.  But 
of  this  service  and  this  Sunday,  which  was  so  strangely 
momentous  a  day  in  more  lives  than  one,  the  next  chap- 
ter must  tell 


THE  carriage  of  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth,  with  its  famil- 
iar and  yet  long  unfamiliar  liveries,  produced  a  keen  sen- 
sation among  the  simple  folk  who  formed  the  congrega- 
tion of  Cairnforth.  But  they  had  too  much  habitual  re- 
spect for  the  great  house  and  great  folk  of  the  place,  min- 
gled with  their  national  shyness  and  independence,  to 
stare  very  much.  A  few  moved  aside  to  make  way  for 
the  two  grand  Edinburg  footmen  who  leaped  down  from 
their  perch  in  order  to  render  customary  assistance  to 
the  occupants  of  the  carriage. 

Mrs.  Campbell  and  Mr.  Menteith  descended  first,  and 
then  the  two  footmen  looked  puzzled  as  to  what  they 
should  do  next. 

But  Malcolm  was  before  them — Malcolm,  who  never 
suffered  mortal  man  but  himself  to  render  the  least  as- 
sistance to  his  young  master ;  who  watched  and  tended 
him ;  waited  on  and  fed  him  in  the  day,  and  slept  in  his 
room  at  night ;  who,  in  truth,  had  now,  for  a  year  past, 
slipped  into  all  the  offices  of  a  nurse  as  well  as  servant, 
and  performed  them  with  a  woman's  tenderness,  care, 
and  skill.  Lord  Cairnforth's  eyes  brightened  when  he 
saw  him ;  and,  carried  in  Malcolm's  arms — a  few  strag- 
glers of  the  congregation  standing  aside  to  let  them  pass 
— the  young  earl  was  brought  to  the  door  of  the  kirk 
where  his  family  had  worshiped  for  generations. 


THE  carriage  of  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth,  with  its  famil- 
iar and  yet  long  unfamiliar  liveries,  produced  a  keen  sen- 
sation among  the  simple  folk  who  formed  the  congrega- 
tion of  Cairnforth.  But  they  had  too  much  habitual  re- 
spect for  the  great  house  and  great  folk  of  the  place,  min- 
gled with  their  national  shyness  and  independence,  to 
stare  very  much.  A  few  moved  aside  to  make  way  for 
the  two  grand  Edinburg  footmen  who  leaped  down  from 
their  perch  in  order  to  render  customary  assistance  to 
the  occupants  of  the  carriage. 

Mrs.  Campbell  and  Mr.  Menteith  descended  first,  and 
then  the  two  footmen  looked  puzzled  as  to  what  they 
should  do  next. 

But  Malcolm  was  before  them — Malcolm,  who  never 
suffered  mortal  man  but  himself  to  render  the  least  as- 
sistance to  his  young  master ;  who  watched  and  tended 
him ;  waited  on  and  fed  him  in  the  day,  and  slept  in  his 
room  at  night ;  who,  in  trutb,  had  now,  for  a  year  past, 
slipped  into  all  the  offices  of  a  nurse  as  well  as  servant, 
and  performed  them  with  a  woman's  tenderness,  care, 
and  skill.  Lord  Cairnforth's  eyes  brightened  when  he 
saw  him ;  and,  carried  in  Malcolm's  arms — a  few  strag- 
glers of  the  congregation  standing  aside  to  let  them  pass 
— the  young  earl  was  brought  to  the  door  of  the  kirk 
where  his  family  had  worshiped  for  generations. 


44  A  Nolle  Life. 

Two  elders  stood  there  beside  the  plate — white-headed 
farmers,  who  remembered  both  the  late  lord  and  the  one 
before  him. 

"Yon's  the  earl,"  whispered  they,  and  came  forward 
respectfully ;  then,  startled  by  the  unexpected  and  piti- 
ful sight,- they  shrank  back;  but  either  the  boy  did  not 
notice  this,  or  was  so  .used  to  it  that  he  showed  no  sur- 
prise. 

"  My  purse,  Malcolm,"  the  small,  soft  voice  was  heard 
to  say. 

"  Ay,  my  lord.     What  will  ye  put  into  the  plate?" 

"A  guinea,  I  think,  to-day,  because  I  am  so  very 
happy." 

This  answer,  which  the  two  elders  overheard,  was  told 
by  them  next  day  to  every  body,  and  remembered  along 
the  loch-side  for  years. 

Cairnforth  Kirk,  like  most  other  Scotch  churches  of 
ancient  date,  is  very  plain  within  and  without,  and  the 
congregation  then  consisted  almost  entirely  of  hill-side 
farmers,  shepherds,  and  the  like,  who  arrived  in  families 
— dogs  and  all,  for  the  dogs  always  came  to  church,  and 
behaved  there  as  decorously  as  their  masters.  Many  of 
the  people  walked  eight,  ten,  and  even  twelve  miles,  from 
the  extreme  boundary  of  the  parish,  and  waited  about  in 
the  kirk  or  kirk-yard  on  fine  Sundays,  and  in  the  Manse 
kitchen  on  wet  ones — which  were  much  the  most  fre- 
quent— during  the  two  hours'  interval  between  sermons. 

In  the  whole  congregation  there  was  hardly  a  person 
above  the  laboring  class  except  in  the  minister's  pew  and 
that  belonging  to  the  Castle,  which  had  been  newly  lined 
and  cushioned,  and  in  a  corner  of  which,  safely  deposited 


A  Noble  Life.   '  45 

by  Malcolm,  the  little  earl  now  sat  —  sat  always,  even 
during  the  prayer,  at  which  some  of  the  congregation 
looked  reprovingly  round,  but  only  saw  the  little  figure 
wrapped  in  a  plaid,  and  the  sweet,  wan,  childish,  and  yet 
unchild-like  face,  with  the  curly  dark  hair,  and  large 
dark  eyes. 

Whatever  in  the  earl  was  u  no  a'  richt,"  it  certainly 
could  not  be  his  mind,  for  a  brighter,  more  intelligent 
countenance  was  never  seen.  It  quite  startled  the  min- 
ister with  the  intentness  of  its  gaze  from  the  moment  he 
ascended  the  pulpit ;  and  though  he  tried  not  to  look 
that  way,  and  was  very  nervous,  he  could  not  get  over 
the  impression  it  made.  It  was  to  him  almost  like  a  face 
from  the  grave — this  strange,  eerie  child's  face,  so  strong- 
ly resembling  that  of  the  dead  countess,  who,  despite  the 
difference  in  rank,  had,  during  the  brief  year  she  lived 
and  reigned  at  Caimforth,  been  almost  like  an  equal 
friend  and  companion  to  his  own  dead  wife.  Their  two 
faces— Lady  Cairn forth's  as  she  looked  the  last  time  he 
saw  her  in  her  coffin,  and  his  wife's  as  she  lay  in  hers — 
mingled  together,  and  affected  him  powerfully. 

The  good  minister  was  not  remarkable  for  the  brillian- 
cy of  his  sermons,  which  he  wrote  and  "committed" — that 
is,  learned  by  heart,  to  deliver  in  pseudo-extempore  fash- 
ion, as  was  the  weary  custom  of  most  Scotch  ministers 
of  his  time.  But  this  Sunday,  all  that  he  had  committed 
slipped  clean  out  of  his  memory.  He  preached  as  he  had 
never  been  known  to  preach  before,  and  never  preach- 
ed again — with  originality,  power,  eloquence ;  speaking 
from  his  deepest  heart,  as  if  the  words  thence  pouring  out 
had  been  supernaturally  put  into  it ;  which,  with  a  su- 


46  A  Nobk  Life. 

perstition  that  approached  to  sublimest  faith,  he  afterward 
solemnly  believed  they  had  been. 

The  text  was  that  verse  about  "all  things  working  to- 
gether for  good  to  them  that  love  God ;"  but,  whatever  | 
the  original  discourse  had  been,  it  wandered  off  into  a 
subject  which  all  who  knew  the  minister  recognized  as 
one  perpetually  close  to  his  heart — submission  to  the  will 
of  God,  whatever  that  will  might  be,  and  however  incom- 
prehensible it  seemed  to  mortal  eyes. 

"Not,  my  friends,"  said  he,  after  speaking  for  a  long 
time  on  this  head — speaking  rather  than  sermonizing, 
which,  like  many  cultivated  but  not  very  original  minds, 
he  was  too  prone  to  do — "  not  that  I  would  encourage  or 
excuse  that  weak  yielding  to  calamity  which  looks  like 
submission,  but  is,  in  fact,  only  cowardice ;  submitting  to 
all  things  as  to  a  sort  of  fatality,  without  struggling 
against  them,  or  trying  to  distinguish  how  much  of  them 
is  the  will  of  God,  and  how  much  our  own  weak  will ; 
daunted  by  the  first  shadow  of  misfortune,  especially  mis- 
fortunes in  our  worldly  affairs,  wherein  so  much  often 
happens  for  which  we  have  ourselves  only  to  blame. 
Submission  to  man  is  one  thing,  submission  to  God  an- 
other. The  latter  is  divine,  the  former  is  often  merely 
contemptible.  But  even  to  the  Almighty  Father  we 
should  yield  not  a  blind,  crushed  resignation,  but  an  open- 
eyed  obedience,  like  that  we  would  fain  win  from  our 
own  children,  desiring  to  make  of  them  children,  not 
slaves. 

"  My  children — for  I  speak  to  the  very  youngest  of 
you  here,  and  do  try  to  understand  me  if  you  can,  or  as 
much  as  you  can — it  is  right — it  is  God's  will — that  you 


A  Noble  Life.  47 

should  resist,  to  the  very  last,  any  trial  which  is  not  in- 
evitable. There  are  in  this  world  countless  sorrows, 
which,  so  far  as  appears,  we  actually  bring  on  ourselves 
and  others  by  our  own  folly,  wickedness,  or  weakness — 
which  is  often  as  fatal  as  wickedness ;  and  then  we  blame 
Providence  for  it,  and  sink  into  total  despair.  But  when, 
as  sometimes  happens,  His  heavy  hand  is  laid  upon  us  in 
a  visible,  inevitable  misfortune  which  we  can  not  strug- 
gle against,  and  from  which  no  human  aid  can  save  us, 
then  we  ought  to  learn  His  hardest  lesson — to  submit. 
To  submit — yet  still,  while  saying  '  Thy  will  be  done,'  to 
strive,  so  far  as  we  can,  to  do  it.  If  He  have  taken  from 
us  all  but  one  talent,  even  that,  my  children,  let  us  not 
bury  in  a  napkin.  Let  us  rather  put  it  out  at  usury, 
leaving  to  Him  to  determine  how  much  we  shall  receive 
again ;  for  it  is  according  to  our  use  of  what  we  have, 
and  not  of  what  we  have  not,  that  He  will  call  us  *  good 
and  faithful  servants,7  and  at  last,  when  the  long  struggle 
of  living  shall  be  over,  will  bid  us  '  enter  into  the  joy  of 
our  Lord.' " 

When  the  minister  sat  down,  he  saw,  as  he  had  seen, 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  all  through  the  service,  and 
above  the  entire  congregation,  those  two  large  intent  eyes 
fixed  upon  him  from  the  Cairnforth  pew. 

Children  of  ten  years  old  do  not  usually  listen  much 
to  sermons,  but  the  little  earl  had  heard  very  few,  for  it 
was  difficult  to  take  him  to  church  without  so  many  peo- 
ple staring  at  him.  Nevertheless,  he  listened  to  this  ser- 
mon, so  plain  and  clear,  suited  to  the  capacity  of  ignorant 
shepherds  and  little  children,  and  seemed  as  if  he  under< 
stood  it  all.  If  he  did  not  then,  he  did  afterward. 


48  A  Noble  Life. 

When  service  was  over,  he  sat  watching  the  congrega- 
tion pass  out,  especially  noticing  a  family  of  boys  who 
occupied  the  adjoining  pew.  They  had  neither  father 
nor  mother  with  them,  but  an  elder  sister,  as  she  appear- 
ed to  be — a  tall  girl  of  about  fifteen.  She  marshaled 
them  out  before  her,  not  allowing  them  once  to  turn,  as 
many  of  the  other  people  did,  to  look  with  curiosity  at 
the  poor  little  earl.  But  in  quitting  the  kirk  she  stopped 
at  the  vestry  door,  apparently  to  say  a  word  to  the  min- 
ister ;  after  which  Mr.  Cardross  came  forward,  his  gown 
over  his  arm,  and  spoke  to  Mr.  Menteith — 

"  Where  is  Lord  Cairnforth  ?  I  was  so  glad  to  see  him 
here." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Cardross,"  replied  a  weak  but  cheer- 
ful voice  from  Malcolm's  shoulder,  which  so  startled  the 
good  minister  that  he  found  not  another  word  for  a  whole 
minute.  At  last  he  said,  hesitating, 

"Helen  has  just  been  reminding  me  that  the  earl  and 
countess  used  always  to  come  and  rest  at  the  Manse  be- 
tween sermons.  Would  Lord  Cairnforth  like  to  do  the 
same  ?  It  is  a  good  way  to  the  Castle — or  perhaps  he  is 
too  fatigued  for  the  afternoon  service  ?" 

"  Oh  no,  I  should  like  it  very  much.  And,  nurse,  I  do 
so  want  to  see  Mr.  Cardross's  children ;  and  Helen — who 
is  Helen?" 

"  My  daughter.  Come  here,  Helen,  and  speak  to  the 
earl." 

She  came  forward — the  tall  girl  who  had  sat  at  the  end 
of  the  pew,  in  charge  of  the  six  boys — came  forward  in 
her  serious,  gentle,  motherly  way — alas !  she  was  the  only 
mother  at  the  Manse  now — and  put  out  her  hand,  but  in- 


A  Noble  Life.  49 

stinctively  drew  it  back  again ;  for  oh !  what  poor,  help- 
less, unnatural-looking  fingers  were  feebly  advanced  an 
inch  or  so  to  meet  hers !  They  actually  shocked  her — 
gave  her  a  sick  sense  of  physical  repulsion ;  but  she  con- 
quered it.  Then,  by  a  sudden  impulse  of  conscience, 
quite  forgetting  the  rank  of  the  earl,  and  only  thinking 
of  the  poor,  crippled,  orphaned  baby — for  he  seemed  no 
more  than  a  baby — Helen  did  what  her  warm,  loving 
heart  was  in  the  habit  of  doing,  as  silent  consolation  for 
every  thing,  to  her  own  tribe  of  "  mitherless  bairns" — 
she  stooped  forward  and  kissed  him. 

The  little  earl  was  so  astonished  that  he  blushed  up  to 
the  very  brow.  But  from  that  minute  he  loved  Helen 
Cardross,  and  never  ceased  loving  her  to  the  end  of  his 
days. 

She  led  the  way  to  the  Manse,  which  was  so  close  be- 
hind the  kirk  that  the  back  windows  of  it  looked  on  the 
grave-yard.  But  in  front  there  was  a  beautiful  lawn  and 
garden — the  prettiest  Manse  garden  that  ever  was  seen. 
Helen  stepped  through  it  with  her  light,  quick  step,  a 
child  clinging  to  each  hand,  often  turning  round  to  speak 
to  Malcolm  or  to  the  earl.  He  followed  her  with  his  eyes, 
and  thought  she  was  like  a  picture  he  had  once  seen  of  a 
guardian  angel  leading  two  children  along,  though  there 
was  not  a  bit  of  the  angel  about  Helen  Cardross — exter- 
nally at  least,  she  being  one  of  those  large,  rosy,  round- 
faced,  flaxen-haired  Scotch  girls  who  are  far  from  pretty 
even  in  youth,  and  in  middle  age  sometimes  grow  quite 
coarse  and  plain.  She  would  not  do  so,  and  did  not ;  for 
any  body  so  good,  so  sweet,  so  bright,  must  always  carry 
about  with  her,  even  to  old  age,  something  which,  if  not 

C 


50  A  Noble  Life. 

beauty's  self,  is  beauty's  atmosphere,  and  which  often  cre- 
ates, even  around  unlovely  people,  a  light  and  glory  as 
I  perfect  as  the  atmosphere  round  the  sun. 

She  took  her  seat — her  poor  mother's  that  used  to  be 
' — at  the  head  of  the  Manse  table — which  was  a  little  qui- 
eter on  Sundays  than  week-days,  and  especially  this  Sun- 
day, when  the  children  were  all  awed  and  shy  before 
their  new  visitor.  Helen  had  previously  taken  them  all 
aside,  and  explained  to  them  that  they  were  not  to  notice 
any  thing  in  the  earl  that  was  different  from  other  peo- 
ple— that  he  was  a  poor  little  crippled  boy  who  had  nei- 
ther father,  mother,  brother,  nor  sister;  that  they  were 
to  be  very  kind  to  him,  but  not  to  look  at  him  much,  and 
to  make  no  remarks  upon  him  on  any  account  whatever. 

And  so,  even  though  he  was  placed  on  baby's  high 
chair,  and  fed  by  Malcolm  almost  as  if  he  were  a  baby — 
he  who,  though  no  bigger  than  a  baby,  was  in  reality  a 
boy  often  years  old,  whom  papa  talked  to,  and  who  talked 
with  papa  almost  as  cleverly  as  Helen  herself — still  the 
Manse  children  were  so  well  behaved  that  nothing  oc- 
curred to  make  any  body  uncomfortable. 

For  the  little  earl,  he  seemed  to  enjoy  himself  amazing- 
ly. He  sat  in  his  high  chair,  and  looked  round  the  well- 
filled  table  with  mingled  curiosity  and  amusement ;  in- 
quired the  children's  names,  and  was  greatly  interested 
in  the  dog,  the  cat,  a  rabbit,  and  two  kittens,  which  after 
dinner  they  successively  brought  to  amuse  him.  And 
then  he  invited  them  all  to  the  Castle  next  day,  and  pronix 
ised  to  take  them  over  his  garden  there. 

"  But  how  can  you  take  us  ?"  said  the  youngest,  in 
spite  of  Helen's  frown.  "  We  can  run  about,  but  you*---" 


A  Noble  Life.  51 

"  I  can't  run  about,  that  is  true ;  but  I  have  a  little  car- 
riage, and  Malcolm  draws  it,  or  Malcolm  carries  me,  and 
then  I  can  see  such  a  deal.  I  used  to  see  nothing — only 
lie  on  a  sofa  all  day,  and  have  doctors  coming  about  me 
and  hurting  me,"  added  the  poor  little  earl,  growing  con- 
fidential, as  one  by  one  the  boys  slipped  away,  leaving 
him  alone  with  Helen. 

u  Did  they  hurt  you  very  much  ?"  asked  she. 

U0h,  terribly;  but  I  never  told.  You  see,  there  was 
no  use  in  telling ;  it  could  not  be  helped,  and  it  would 
only  have  made  nurse  cry — she  always  cries  over  me.  I 
think  that  is  why  I  like  Malcolm ;  he  always  helps  me, 
and  he  never  cries.  And  I  am  getting  a  great  boy  now ; 
I  was  ten  years  old  last  week." 

Ten  years  old,  though  he  seemed  scarcely  more  than 
five,  except  by  the  old  look  of  his  face.  But  Helen  took 
no  notice,  only  saying  u  that  she  hoped  the  doctors  did 
not  hurt  him  now." 

"No,  that  is  all  over.  Dr. Hamilton  says  I  am  to  be 
left  to  Nature,  whatever  that  is ;  I  overheard  him  say  it 
one  clay.  And  I  begged  of  Mr.  Mentcith  not  to  shut  me 
up  any  longer,  or  take  me  out  only  in  my  carriage,  but 
to  let  me  go  about  as  I  like,  Malcolm  carrying  me — isn't 
he  a  big,  strong  fellow  ?  You  can't  think  how  nice  it  is 
to  be  carried  about,  and  see  every  thing — oh,  it  makes 
me  so  happy !" 

The  tone  in  which  he  said  "  so  happy"  made  the  tears 
start  to  Helen's  eyes.  She  turned  away  to  the  window, 
where  she  saw  her  own  big  brothers,  homely  -  featured 
and  coarsely  clad,  but  full  of  health,  and  strength,  and  ac- 
tivity, and  then  looked  at  this  poor  boy,  who  had  every 


52  A  Noble  Life. 

thing  that  fortune  could  give,  and  yet — nothing !  She 
thought  how  they  grumbled  and  squabbled,  those  rough 
lads  of  hers ;  how  she  herself  often  felt  the  burden  of  the 
large  narrow  household  more  than  she  could  bear,  and 
lost  heart  and  temper;  then  she  thought  of  him — poor, 
helpless  soul ! — you  could  hardly  say  body — who  could 
neither  move  hand  nor  foot — who  was  dependent  as  an 
infant  on  the  kindness  or  compassion  of  those  about  him. 
Yet  he  talked  of  being  "  so  happy !"  And  there  entered 
into  Helen  Cardross's  good  heart  toward  the  Earl  of 
Cairnforth  a  deep  tenderness,  which  from  that  hour  noth- 
ing ever  altered  or  estranged. 

It  was  not  pity — something  far  deeper.  Had  he  been 
fretful,  fractious,  disagreeable,  she  would  still  have  been 

-xvery  sorry  for  him  and  very  kind  to  him.  But  now,  to 
see  him  as  he  was — cheerful,  patient ;  so  ready  with  his 
interest  in  others,  so  utterly  without  envyings  and  com- 

*  plainings  regarding  himself — changed  what  would  other- 
wise have  been  mere  compassion  into  actual  reverence. 
As  she  sat  beside  him  in  his  little  chair,  not  looking  at 
him  much,  for  she  still  found  it  difficult  to  overcome  the 
painful  impression  of  the  sight  of  that  crippled  and  de- 
formed body,  she  felt  a  choking  in  her  throat  and  a  dim- 
ness in  her  eyes — a  longing  to  do  any  thing  in  the  wide 
world  that  would  help  or  comfort  the  poor  little  earl. 

"Do  you  learn  any  lessons?"  asked  she,  thinking  he 
seemed  to  enjoy  talking  with  her.  "  I  thought  at  dinner 
to-day  that  you  seemed  to  know  a  great  many  things." 

"  Did  I  ?  That  is  very  odd,  for  I  fancied  I  knew  noth- 
ing; and  I  want  to  learn  every  thing  —  if  Mr.  Cardross 
will  teach  me.  I  should  like  to  sit  and  read  all  day  long. 


A  Noble  Life.  53 

I  could  do  it  by  myself,  now  that  I  have  found  out  a  way 
of  holding  the  book  and  turning  over  the  leaves  without 
nurse's  helping  me.  Malcolm  invented  it — Malcolm  is 
so  clever  and  so  kind." 

"  Is  Malcolm  always  with  you  ?" 

"  Oh  yes ;  how  could  I  do  without  Malcolm  ?  And 
you  are  quite  sure  your  father  will  teach  me  every  thing 
I  want  to  learn  ?"  pursued  the  little  earl,  very  eagerly. 

Helen  was  quite  sure. 

"And  there  is  another  thing.  Mr.  Menteith  says  I  must 
try,  if  possible,  to  learn  to  write — if  only  so  as  to  be  able 
to  sign  my  name.  In  eleven  more  years,  when  I  am  a 
man,  he  says  I  shall  often  be  required  to  sign  my  name. 
Do  you  think  I  could  manage  to  learn?" 

Helen  looked  at  the  poor,  twisted,  powerless  fingers, 
and  doubted  it  very  much.  Still  she  said  cheerfully,  u  It 
would  anyhow  be  a  good  thing  to  try." 

"So  it  would  —  and  I'll  try.  I'll  begin  to-morrow. 
Will  you" — with  a  pathetic  entreaty  in  the  soft  eyes — 
"it  might  be  too  much  trouble  for  Mr.  Cardross — but  will 
you  teach  me  ?" 

"Yes,  my  dear!"  said  Helen,  warmly,  "that  I  will." 

"  Thank  you.  And" — still  hesitating — "  please  would 
you  always  call  me  '  my  dear'  instead  of  { my  lord ;'  and 
might  I  call  you  Helen  ?" 

So  they  "  made  a  paction  'twixt  them  twa" — the  poor 
little  helpless,  crippled  boy,  and  the  bright,  active,  ener- 
getic girl — the  earl's  son  and  the  minister's  daughter — 
one  of  those  pactions  which  grow  out  of  an  inner  simili- 
tude which  counteracts  all  outward  dissimilarity;  and 
they  never  broke  it  while  they  lived. 


54  A  Noble  Life. 

"  Has  my  lamb  enjoyed  himself  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Camp- 
bell, anxiously  and  affectionately,  when  she  reappeared 
from  the  Manse  kitchen.  Then,  with  a  sudden  resump- 
tion of  dignity,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Cardross,  but 
this  is  the  first  time  his  lordship  has  ever  been  out  to 
dinner." 

"  Oh,  nurse,  how  I  wish  I  might  go  out  to  dinner  ev- 
ery Sunday !  I  am  sure  this  has  been  the  happiest  day 
of  all  my  life." 


Cjjnjtter 


IF  the  "  happiest  day  in  all  his  life"  had  been  the  first 
day  the  earl  spent  at  Cairn  forth  Manse,  which  very  like- 
ly it  was,  he  took  the  first  possible  opportunity  of  renew- 
ing his  happiness. 

Early  on  Monday  forenoon,  while  Helen's  ever-active 
hands  were  still  busy  clearing  away  the  six  empty  por- 
ridge plates,  and  the  one  tea-cup  which  had  contained  the 
beverage  which  the  minister  loved,  but  which  was  too 
dear  a  luxury  for  any  but  the  father  of  the  family,  Mal- 
colm Campbell's  large  shadow  was  seen  darkening  the 
window. 

"  There's  the  earl !"  cried  Helen,  whose  quick  eye  had 
already  caught  sight  of  the  white  little  face  muffled  up 
in  Malcolm's  plaid,  and  the  soft  black  curls  resting  on 
his  shoulder,  damp  with  rain,  and  blown  about  by  the 
wind,  for  it  was  what  they  called  at  Loch  Beg  a  " coarse" 
day. 

"  My  lord  was  awfu'  set  upon  coming,"  said  Malcolm, 
apologetically;  "and  when  my  lord  taks  a  thing  into 
his  heid,  he'll  aye  do't,  ye  ken." 

"  We  are  very  glad  to  see  the  earl,"  returned  the  min- 
ister, who  nevertheless  looked  a  little  perplexed;  for, 
while  finishing  his  breakfast,  he  had  been  confiding  to 
Ilelen  how  very  nervous  he  felt  about  this  morning's 

C2 


58  A  Noble  Life. 

duties  at  the  Castle — how  painful  it  would  be  to  teach  a 
child  so  afflicted,  and  how  he  wished  he  had  thought 
twice  before  he  undertook  the  charge.  And  Helen  had 
been  trying  to  encourage  him  bj  telling  him  all  that  had 
passed  between  herself  and  the  boy — how  intelligent  he 
had  seemed,  and  how  eager  to  learn.  Still,  the  very  fact 
that  they  had  been  discussing  him  made  Mr.  Cardross 
feel  slightly  confused.  Men  shrink  so  much  more  than) 
women  from  any  physical  suffering  or  deformity;  be 
sides,  except  those  few  moments  in  the  church,  this  was 
really  the  first  time  he  had  beheld  Lord  Cairnforth ;  for 
on  Sundays  it  was  the  minister's  habit  to  pass  the  whole 
time  between  sermons  in  his  study,  and  not  join  the  fam- 
ily table  until  tea. 

"  We  are  very  glad  to  see  the  earl  at  all  times,"  re- 
peated he,  but  hesitatingly,  as  if  not  sure  that  he  was 
quite  speaking  the  truth. 

"  Yes,  very  glad,"  added  Helen,  hastily,  fancying  she 
could  detect  in  the  prematurely  acute  and  sensitive  face 
a  consciousness  that  he  was  not  altogether  welcome. 
"  My  father  was  this  minute  preparing  to  start  for  the 
Castle." 

"My  lord  didna  like  to  trouble  the  minister  to  be 
walking  out  this  coarse  day,"  said  Malcolm,  with  true 
Highland  ingenuity  of  politeness.  "His  lordship  thocht 
that  instead  o'  Mr.  Cardross  coming  to  him,  he  would 
just  come  to  Mr.  Cardross." 

"  No,  Malcolm,"  interposed  the  little  voice,  "  it  was  not 
exactly  that.  I  wished  for  my  own  sake  to  come  to  the 
Manse  again,  and  to  ask  if  I  might  come  every  day  and 
take  my  lessons  here — it's  so  dreary  in  that  big  library. 


A  Noble  Life.  59 

I'll  not  be  much  trouble,  indeed,  sir,"  he  added,  entreat- 
ingly ;  "  Malcolm  will  carry  me  in  and  carry  me  out.  I 
can  sit  on  almost  any  sort  of  chair  now ;  and  with  this 
wee  bit  of  stick  in  my  hand  I  can  turn  over  the  leaves 
of  my  books  my  very  own  self — I  assure  you  I  can." 

The  minister  walked  to  the  window.  He  literally 
could  not  speak  for  a  minute,  he  felt  so  deeply  moved, 
and  in  his  secret  heart  so  very  much  ashamed  of  himself. 

When  he  turned  round  Malcolm  had  placed  the  little 
figure  in  an  arm-chair  by  the  fire,  and  was  busy  unswath- 
ing the  voluminous  folds  of  the  plaid  in  which  it  had 
been  wrapped.  Helen,  after  a  glance  or  two,  pretended 
to  be  equally  busy  over  her  daily  duty — the  common 
duty  of  Scotch  housewives  at  that  period — of  washing 
up  the  delicate  china  with  her  own  neat  hands,  and  put- 
ting it  safe  away  in  the  parlor  press ;  for,  as  before  said, 
Mr.  Cardross's  income  was  very  small,  and,  like  that  of 
most  country  ministers,  very  uncertain,  his  stipend  alter- 
ing year  by  year,  according  to  the  price  of  corn.  They 
kept  one  "  lassie"  to  help,  but  Helen  herself  had  to  do  a 
great  deal  of  the  housework.  She  went  on  doing  it  now, 
as  probably  she  would  in  any  case,  being  at  once  too  sim- 
ple and  too  proud  to  be  ashamed  of  it ;  still,  she  was  glad 
to  seem  busy,  lest  the  earl  might  have  fancied  she  was 
watching  him.  • 

Her  feminine  instinct  had  been  right.  Now  for  the 
first  time  taken  out  of  his  shut-up  nursery  life,  where  he 
himself  had  been  the  principal  object — where  he  had  no 
playfellows  and  no  companions  save  those  he  had  been 
used  to  from  infancy — removed  from  this,  and  brought 
into  ordinary  family  life,  the  poor  child  felt — he  could 


60  A  Noble  Life. 

not  but  feel — the  sad,  sad  difference  between  himself  and 
all  the  rest  of  the  world.  His  color  came  and  went — 
he  looked  anxiously,  deprecatingly,  at  Mr.  Cardross. 

"  I  hope,  sir,  you  are  not  displeased  with  me  for  com- 
ing to-day.  I  shall  not  be  very  much  trouble  to  you — 
at  least  I  will  try  to  be  as  little  trouble  as  I  can." 

"  My  boy,"  said  the  minister,  crossing  over  to  him  and 
laying  his  hand  upon  his  head,  "you  will  not  be  the 
least  trouble ;  and  if  you  were  ever  so  much,  I  would 
cheerfully  undertake  it  for  the  sake  of  your  father  and 
mother,  and — "  he  added,  more  to  himself  than  aloud — 
"  for  your  own." 

That  was  true.  Nature,  which  is  never  without  her 
compensations,  had  put  into  this  child  of  ten  years  old  a 
strange  charm,  an  inexpressible  loveableness — that  love- 
ableness  which  springs  from  lovingness,  though  every 
loving  nature  is  not  fortunate  enough  to  possess  it.  But 
the  earl's  did ;  and  as  he  looked  up  into  the  minister's 
face,  with  that  touchingly  grateful  expression  he  had, 
the  good  man  felt  his  heart  melt  and  brim  over  at  his 
eyes. 

"  You  don't  dislike  me,  then,  because — because  I  am 
not  like  other  boys  ?" 

Mr.  Cardross  smiled,  though  his  eyes  were  still  dim, 
and  his  voice  not  clear ;  and  with  that  smile  vanished  for- 
ever the  slight  repulsion^he  had  felt  to  the  poor  child. 
He  took  him  permanently  into  his  good  heart,  and  from 
his  manner  the  earl  at  once  knew  that  it  was  so. 

He  brightened  up  immediately. 

"  Now,  Malcolm,  carry  me  in ;  I'm  quite  ready,"  said 
he,  in  a  tone  which  indicated  that  quality,  discernible 


A  Noble  Life.  61 

even  at  so  early  an  age — a  "  will  of  his  own."  To  see 
the  way  he  ordered  Malcolm  about — the  big  fellow  obey- 
ing him,  with  something  beyond  even  the  large  limits  of 
that  feudal  respect  which  his  forbears  had  paid  to  the 
earl's  forbears  for  many  a  generation,  was  a  sight  at  once 
touching  and  hopeful. 

"  There — put  me  into  the  child's  chair  I  had  at  dinner 
yesterday.  JSTow  fetch  me  a  pillow — or  rather  roll  up 
your  plaid  into  one — don't  trouble  Miss  Cardross.  That 
will  make  me  quite  comfortable.  Pall  out  my  books 
from  your  pouch,  Malcolm,  and  spread  them  out  on  the 
table,  and  then  go  and  have  a  crack  with  your  old  friends 
at  the  clachan  ;  you  can  come  for  me  in  two  hours." 

It  was  strange  to  see  the  little  figure  giving  its  orders, 
and  settling  itself  with  the  preciseness  of  an  old  man  at 
the  study-table ;  but  still  this  removed  somewhat  of  the 
painful  shyness  and  uncomfortableness  from  every  body, 
and  especially  from  Mr.  Cardross.  He  sat  himself  down 
in  his  familiar  arm-chair,  and  looked  across  the  table  at 
his  poor  little  pupil,  who  seemed  at  once  so  helpless  and 
so  strong. 

Lessons  begun.  The  child  was  exceedingly  intelligent 
— precociously,  nay,  preternatu rally  so,  it  appeared  to  Mr. 
Cardross,  who,  like  many  another  learned  father,  had  been 
'^blessed  with  rather  stupid  boys,  who  liked  any  thing  bet- 
ter than  study,  and  whom  he  had  with  great  labor  drag- 
ged through  a  course  of  ordinary  English,  Latin,  and 
even  a  fragment  of  Greek.  But  this  boy  seemed  all 
brains.  His  cheeks  flushed,  his  eyes  glittered,  he  learned 
as  if  he  actually  enjoyed  learning.  True,  as  Mr.  Cardross 
soon  discovered,  his  acquirements  were  not  at  all  in  the 


62  A  Noble  Life. 

regular  routine  of  education ;  he  was  greatly  at  fault  in 
many  simple  things ;  but  the  amount  of  heterogeneous 
and  out-of-the-way  knowledge  which  he  had  gathered  up, 
from  all  available  sources,  was  quite  marvelous.  And, 
above  all,  to  teach  a  boy  unto  whom  learning  seemed  a 
pleasure  rather  than  a  torment,  a  favor  instead  of  a  pun- 
ishment, was  such  an  exceeding  and  novel  delight  to  the 
good  minister,  that  soon  he  forgot  the  crippled  figure — 
the  helpless  hands  that  sometimes  with  fingers,  sometimes 
even  with  teeth,  painfully  guided  the  ingeniously  cut 
forked  stick,  and  the  thin  face  that  only  too  often  turned 
white  and  weary,  but  quickly  looked  up,  as  if  struggling 
against  weakness,  and  concentrating  all  attention  on  the 
work  that  was  to  be  done. 

At  twelve  o'clock  Helen  came  in  with  her  father's 
lunch — a  foaming  glass  of  new  milk,  warm  from  the  cow. 
The  little  earl  looked  at  it  with  eager  eyes. 

"Will  I  bring  you  one  too?"  said  Helen. 

"  Oh — thank  you ;  I  am  so  thirsty.  And,  please,  would 
you  move  me  a  little — -just  a  very  little;  I  don't  often 
sit  so  long  in  one  position.  -  It  won't  trouble  you  very 
much,  will  it?" 

"Not  at  all,  if  you  will  only  show  me  how,"  stam- 
mered Helen,  turning  hot  and  red.  But,  shaking  off  her 
hesitation,  she  lifted  up  the  poor  child  tenderly  and  care- 
fully, shook  his  pillows  and  "sorted"  him  according  to 
her  own  untranslatable  Scotch  word,  then  went  quickly 
out  of  the  room  to  compose  herself,  for  she  had  done  it 
all,  trembling  exceedingly  the  while.  And  yet,  some- 
how, a  feeling  of  great  tenderness — tenderer  than  even 
she  had  felt  successively  toward  her  own  baby  brothers, 


A  Nolle  Life.  63 

had  grown  up  in  her  heart  toward  him,  taking  away 
every  possible  feeling  of  repulsion  on  account  of  his  de- 
formity. 

She  brought  back  the  glass  of  creamy  milk  and  a  bit 
of  oatcake,  and  laid  them  beside  the  earl.  He  regarded 
them  wistfully. 

"  How  nice  the  milk  looks !  I  am  so  tired  —  and  so 
thirsty.  Please — would  you  give  me  some  ?  Just  hold 
the  glass,  that's  all,  and  I  can  manage." 

Helen  held  it  to  his  lips — the  first  time  she  ever  did 
so,  but  not  the  last  by  many.  Years  and  years  from 
then,  when  she  herself  was  quite  an  old  woman,  she  re- 
membered giving  him  that  drink  of  milk,  and  how,  aft- 
erward, two  large  soft  eyes  were  turned  upon  hers  so 
lovingly,  so  gratefully,  as  if  the  poor  cripple  had  drank 
in  something  besides  milk — the  sweet  draught  of  human 
affection,  not  dried  up  even  to  such  heavily  afflicted  ones 
as  he. 

"Are  lessons  all  done  for  to-day,  papa?"  said  she,  no- 
ticing that,  eager  as  it  was,  the  little  face  looked  very 
wan  and  wearied,  but  also  noticing  with  delight  that  her 
father's  expression  was  brighter  and  more  interested  than 
it  had  been  this  long  time. 

"Done,  Helen?  Well,  if  my  pupil  is  tired,  certain- 
ly." 

"But  I'm  not  tired,  sir." 

Helen  shook  her  motherly  head :  "  Quite  enough  for 
to-day.  You  may  come  back  again  to-morrow." 

He  did  come  back.  Day  after  day,  in  fair  weather  or 
foul,  big  Malcolm  was  to  be  seen  stepping  with  his  free 
Highland  step — Malcolm  was  a  lissome,  handsome  young 


64  A  Nolk  Life. 

fellow — across  the  Manse  garden,  carrying  that  small, 
frail  burden,  which  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  clachan 
had  ceased  to  stare  at,  and  to  which  they  all  raised  their 
bonnets  or  touched  their  shaggy  forelocks.  "  It's  the  wee 
earl,  ye  ken,"  and  one  and  all  treated  with  the  utmost 
respect  the  tiny  figure  wrapped  in  a  plaid,  so  that  noth- 
ing was  visible  except  a  small  child's  face,  which  always 
smiled  at  sight  of  other  children. 

It  was  surprising  in  how  few  days  the  clachan,  and 
indeed  the  whole  neighborhood,  grew  accustomed  to  the 
appearance  of  the  earl  and  his  sad  story.  Perhaps  this 
was  partly  due  to  Helen  and  Mr.  Cardross,  who,  seeing 
no  longer  any  occasion  for  mystery,  indeed  regretting  a 
little  that  any  mystery  had  ever  been  made  about  the 
matter,  took  every  opportunity  of  telling  every  body 
who  inquired  the  whole  facts  of  the  case. 

These  were  few  enough  and  simple  enough,  though 
very  sad.  The  Earl — the  last  Earl  of  Cairnforth — was  a 
hopeless  cripple  for  life.  All  the  consultations  of  all  the 
doctors  had  resulted  in  that  conclusion.  It  was  very  un- 
likely he  would  ever  be  better  than  he  was  now  physic- 
ally, but  mentally  he  was  certainly  "a'  richt"  —  or  "a7 
there,"  as  the  country-folk  express  it.  There  was,  as 
Mr.  Cardross  carefully  explained  to  every  body,  not  the 
slightest  ground  for  supposing  him  deficient  in  intellect; 
on  the  contrary,  his  intellect  seemed  almost  painfully 
acute.  The  quickness  with  which  he  learned  his  lessons 
surpassed  that  of  any  boy  of  his  age  the  minister  had 
ever  known  ;  and  he  noticed  every  thing  around  him  so 
closely,  and  made  such  intelligent  remarks,  that  to  talk 
with  him  was  like  talking  with  a  grown  man.  Before 


A  Noble  Life.  65 

the  first  week  was  over  Mr.  Cardross  began  actually  to 
enjoy  the  child's  company,  and  to  look  forward  to  lesson 
hours  as  the  pleasantest  hours  of  his  day;  for,  since  the 
Castle  was  closed,  the  minister's  lot  had  been  the  almost 
inevitable  lot  of  a  country  clergyman,  whose  parish  con 
tains  many  excellent  people,  who  look  up  to  him  with 
the  utmost  reverence,  and  for  whom  he  entertains  the 
sincere  respect  that  "worth  must  always  feel  toward  worth, 
but  with  whom  he  had  very  few  intellectual  sympathies; 
In  truth,  since  Mrs.  Cardross  died  the  minister  had  shut 
himself  up  almost  entirely,  and  had  scarcely  had  a  single 
interest  out  of  his  own  study  until  the  earl  came  home 
to  Cairnforth. 

Now,  after  lessons,  he  would  occasionally  be  persuaded 
to  quit  that  beloved  study,  and  take  a  walk  along  the 
loch  side,  or  across  the  moor,  to  show  his  pupil  the  coun- 
try of  which  he,  poor  little  fellow !  was  owner  and  lord. 
He  did  it  at  first  out  of  pure  kindness,  to  save  the  earl 
from  the  well-meant  intrusion  of  neighbors,  but  afterward 
from  sheer  pleasure  in  seeing  the  boy  so  happy.  To 
him,  mounted  in  Malcolm's  arms,  and  brought  for  the 
first  time  into  contact  with  the  outer  world,  every  thing 
was  a  novelty  and  delight.  And  his  quick  perception 
let  nothing  escape  him.  He  seemed  to  watch  lovingly 
all  nature,  from  the  grand  lights  and  shadows  which 
moved  over  the  mountains,  to  the  little  moorland  flowers 
which  he  made  Malcolm  stop  to  gather.  All  living 
things  too,  from  the  young  rabbit  that  scudded  across 
their  path,  to  the  lark  that  rose  singing  up  into  the  wide 
blue  air — he  saw  and  noticed  every  thing. 

But  he  never  once  sairl,  what  Helen,  who,  as  often  as 


66  A  Nolle  Life. 

her  house  duties  allowed,  delighted  to  accompany  them 
on  these  expeditions,  was  always  expecting  he  would 
say,  Why  had  God  given  these  soulless  creatures  legs  to 
run  and  wings  to  fly,  strength,  health,  and  activity  to  en< 
joy  existence,  and  denied  all  these  things  to  him?  De- 
nied them,  not  for  a  week,  a  month,  a  year,  but  for  his 
whole  lifetime — a  lifetime  so  short  at  best; — "few  of 
days,  and  full  of  trouble."  "Why  could  He  not  have 
made  it  a  little  more  happy  ? 

Thousands  have  asked  themselves,  in  some  form  or 
other,  the  same  unanswered,  unanswerable  question.  Hel- 
en had  done  so  already,  young  as  she  was;  when  her 
mother  died,  and  her  father  seemed  slowly  breaking 
down,  and  the  whole  world  appeared  to  her  full  of  dark- 
ness and  woe.  How  then  must  it  have  appeared  to  this 
poor  boy  ?  But,  strange  to  say,  that  bitter  doubt,  which 
so  often  came  into  Helen's  heart,  never  fell  from  the 
child's  lips  at  all.  Either  he  was  still  a  mere  child,  ac- 
cepting life  just  as  he  saw  it,  and  seeking  no  solution  of 
its  mysteries,  or  else,  though  so  young,  he  was  still  strong 
enough  to  keep  his  doubts  to  himself,  to  bear  his  own 
burden,  and  trouble  no  one. 

Or  else  —  and  when  she  watched  his  inexpressibly 
sweet  face,  which  had  the  look  you  sometimes  see  in 
blind  faces,  of  absolutely  untroubled  peace,  Helen  was 
forced  to  believe  this — God,  who  had  taken  away  from 
him  so  much,  had  given  him  something  still  more — a 
spiritual  insight  so  deep  and  clear  that  he  was  happy  in 
spite  of  his  heavy  misfortune.  She  never  looked  at  him 
but  she  thought  involuntarily  of  the  text,  out  of  the  only 
book  with  which  unlearned  Helen  was  very  familiar — 


A  Noble  Life.  67 

that  "in  heaven  their  angels  do  always  behold  the  face 
of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 

After  a  fortnight's  stay  at  the  Castle  Mr.  Menteith  felt 
convinced  that  his  experiment  had  succeeded,  and  that, 
onerous  as  the  duty  of  guardian  was,  he  might  be  satisfied 
to  leave  his  ward  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  Cardross. 

"  Only,  if  those  Bruces  should  try  to  get  at  him,  you 
must  let  me  know  at  once.  Eemember,  I  trust  you." 

"  Certainly  you  may.  Has  any  thing  been  heard  of 
them  lately?" 

"Nothing  much, beyond  the  continual  applications  for 
advances  of  the  annual  sum  which  the  late  earl  gave 
them,  and  which  I  continue  to  pay,  just  to  keep  them 
out  of  the  way." 

"They  are  still  abroad?" 

"I  suppose  so;  but  I  hear  very  little  about  them. 
They  were  relations  on  the  countess's  side,  you  know — it 
was  she  who  brought  the  money.  Poor  little  fellow, 
what  an  accumulation  it  will  be  by  the  time  he  is  of  age, 
and  what  small  good  it  will  do  him !" 

And  the  honest  man  sighed  as  he  looked  from  Mr. 
Cardross's  dining-room  window  across  the  Manse  garden, 
where,  under  a  shady  tree,  was  placed  the  earl's  little 
wheel-chair,  which  was  an  occasional  substitute  for  Mal- 
colm's arms.  In  it  he  sat,  with  a  book  on  his  lap,  and 
with  that  aspect  of  entire  content  which  was  so  very 
touching.  Helen  sat  beside  him  on  the  grass,  sewing — 
she  was  always  sewing ;  and,  indeed,  she  had  need,  if  her 
needle  were  to  keep  pace  with  its  requirements  in  that 
large  family  of  boys. 

"  That's  a  good  girl  of  yours,  and  his  lordship  seems  to 


68  A  Noble  Life. 

have  taken  to  her  amazingly,  I  am  very  glad,  for  lio 
had  no  feminine  company  at  all  except  Mrs.  Campbell, 
and,  good  as  she  is,  she  isn't  quite  the  thing — not  exactly 
a  lad}^  you  see.  Eh,  Mr.  Cardross  —  what  a  lady  his 
mother  was !  We'll  never  again  see  the  like  of  the  poor 
countess,  nor,  in  all  human  probability,  will  we  ever  again 
see  another  Countess  of  Cairnforth." 

"No." 

"  Yet,"  continued  Mr.  Menteith,  after  a  long  pause, 
"  Dr.  Hamilton  thinks  he  may  live  many  years.  Strange 
to  say,  his  constitution  is  healthy  and  sound,  and  his 
sweet,  placid  nature  —  his  mother's  own  nature. (isn't  he 
very  like  her  sometimes?)  —  gives  him  so  much  advan- 
tage in  struggling  through  every  ailment.  If  he  can  be 
made  happy,  as  you  and  Helen  will,  1  doubt  not,  be  able 
to  make  him,  and  kept  strictly  to  a  wholesome,  natural 
country  life  here,  it  is  not  impossible  he  may  live  to  en- 
ter upon  his  property.  And  then — for  the  future,  God 
knows!" 

"It  is  well  for  us,"  replied  the  minister,  gravely,  "that 
He  does  know — every  thing." 

"I  suppose  it  is." 

And  then  for  another  hour  the  two  good  men  —  one 
living  in  the  world  and  the  other  out  of  it — both  fathers 
of  families,  carrying  their  own  burden  of  cares,  and  hav- 
ing gone  through  their  own  personal  sorrows  each  in  his 
day,  talked  over,  in  the  minutest  degree,  the  present,  and, 
so  far  as  they  could  divine  it,  the  future  of  this  poor  boy, 
who,  through  so  strange  a  combination  of  circumstances, 
had  been  left  entirely  to  their  charge. 

"It  is  a  most  responsible  charge,  Mr.  Cardross,  and  I 


A  Noble  Life.  69 

feel  almost  selfish  in  shifting  it  so  much  from  my  own 
shoulders  upon  yours." 

"  I  am  willing  to  undertake  it.  Perhaps  it  may  do  me 
good,"  returned  the  minister,  with  a  slight  sigh. 

"  And  you  will  give  him  the  best  education  you  can — 
your  own,  in  short,  which  is  more  than  sufficient  for  any 
Lord  Cairnforth ;  certainly  more  than  the  last  earl  had, 
or  his  father  either." 

"  Possibly,"  said  Mr.  Cardross,  who  remembered  both 
— stalwart,  active,  courtly  lords  of  the  soil,  great  at  field- 
sports  and  festivities,  but  not  over  given  to  study.  "No, 
the  present  earl  does  not  take  after  his  progenitors  in 
any  way.  You  should  just  see  him,  Mr.  Menteith,  over 
his  Virgil;  and  I  have  promised  to  begin  Homer  with 
him  to -morrow;  It  does  one's  heart  good  to  see  a  boy 
so  fond  of  his  books,"  added  the  minister,  warming  up 
into  an  enthusiasm  which  delighted  the  other  extremely. 

"  Yes,  I  think  my  plan  was  right,"  said  he,  rubbing  his 
hands.  "  It  will  work  well  on  both  sides.  There  could 
not  be  found  any  where  a  better  tutor  than  yourself  for 
the  earl.  lie  never  can  go  much  into  the  world;  he 
may  not  even  live  to  be  of  age ;  still,  as  long  as  he  does 
live,  his  life  ought  to  be  made  as  pleasant  —  I  mean,  as 
little  painful  to  him  as  possible.  And  he  ought  to  be 
fitted,  in  case  he  should  live,  for  as  many  as  he  can  fulfill 
of  the  duties  of  his  position ;  its  enjoyments,  alas !  he 
will  never  know." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  replied  Mr.  Cardross.  "  He 
loves  books;  he  may  turn  out  a  thoroughly  educated 
and  accomplished  student  —  perhaps 'even  a  man  of  let- 
ters. To  have  a  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  unlimited/ 


70  A  Noble  Life. 

means  to  gratify  it,  is  not  such  a  bad  thing.  Why,"  con- 
tinued the  minister,  glancing  round  on  his  own  poorly- 
furnished  shelves,  where  every  book  was  bought  almost 
at  the  sacrifice  of  a  meal,  "  he  will  be  rich  enough  to 
stock  from  end  to  end  that  wilderness  of  shelves  in  the 
half -finished  Castle  library.  How  pleasant  that  must 
be!" 

Mr.  Menteith  smiled  as  if  he  did  not  quite  comprehend 
this  sort  of  felicity.  "But,  in  any  case,  Lord  Cairn  forth 
seems  to  have,  what  will  be  quite  as  useful  to  him  as 
brains,  a  very  kindly  heart.  He  does  not  shut  himself 
up  in  a  morbid  way,  but  takes  an  interest  in  all  about 
him.  Look  at  him,  now,  how  heartily  he  is  laughing  at 
something  your  daughter  has  said.  Really,  those  two 
seem  quite  happy." 

"  Helen  makes  every  body  happy,"  fondly  said  Helen's 
father. 

"I  believe  so.  I  shall  be  sending  down  one  of  my  big 
lads  to  look  after  her  some  day.  I've  eight  of  them, 
Mr.  Cardross,  all  to  be  educated,  settled,  and  wived.  It's 
a  'sair  fecht,'  I  assure  you." 

"  I  know  it ;  but  still  it  has  its  compensations." 

"  Ay,  they're  all  strong,  likely,  braw  fellows,  who  can 
push  their  own  way  in  the  world  and  fend  for  themselves. 
Not  like — "  he  glanced  over  to  the  group  on  the  grass, 
and  stopped.  Yet  at  that  moment  a  hearty  trill  of  thor- 
oughly childish  laughter  seemed  to  rebuke  the  regrets  of 
both  fathers. 

"That  child  certainly  has  the  sweetest  nature  —  the 
most  remarkable  faculty  for  enjoying  other  people's  en- 
joyments, in  which  he  himself  can  never  share." 


A  Noble  Life.  71 

"  Yes,  it  was  always  so,  from  the  time  he  was  a  mere 
infant.  Dr.  Hamilton  often  noticed  it,  and  said  it  was  a 
good  omen." 

"I  believe  so, "rejoined  Mr.  Cardross,  earnestly,  "I 
feel  sure  that  if  Lord  Cairnforth  lives,  he  will  neither  have 
a  useless  nor  an  unhappy  life." 

"  Let  us  hope  not.  And  yet — poor  little  fellow ! — to 
be  the  last  Earl  of  Cairnforth,  and  to  be — such  as  he  is !" 

"  He  is  what  God  made  him,  what  God  willed  him  to 
be,"  said  the  minister,  solemnly.  "  We  know  not  why  it 
should  be  so ;  we  only  know  that  it  is,  and  we  can  not 
alter  it.  "We  can  not  remove  from  him  his  heavy  cross, 
but  I  think  we  can  help  him  to  bear  it." 

"  You  are  a  good  man,  Mr.  Cardross,"  replied  the  Ed- 
inburg  writer,  huskily,-  as  he  rose  from  his  seat,  and  de- 
clining another  glass  of  the  claret,  of  which,  under  some 
shallow  pretext,  he  had  sent  a  supply  into  the  minister's 
empty  cellar,  he  crossed  the  grass-plot,  and  spent  the  rest 
of  the  evening  beside  his  ward  and  Helen. 


Cliojrtfr 


D 


DAYS,  months,  and  years  slip  smoothly  by  on  the  shores 
of  Loch  Beg.  Even  now,  though  the  cruelly  advancing 
finger  of  Civilization  has  touched  it,  dotted  it  with  genteel 
villas  on  either  side,  plowed  it  with  smoky  steam-boats, 
and  will  shortly  frighten  the  innocent  fishes  by  dropping 
a  marine  telegraph  wire  across  the  mouth  of  the  loch,  it 
is  a  peaceful  place  still.  But  when  the  last  Earl  of  Cairn- 
forth  was  a  child  it  was  all  peace.  In  summer  time  a  few 
stray  tourists  would  wander  past  it,  wondering  at  its  beau- 
ty ;  but  in  winter  it  had  hardly  any  communication  with 
the  outer  world.  The  Manse,  the  Castle,  and  the  clachan, 
with  a  few  outlying  farm-houses,  comprised  the  whole  of 
Cairnforth ;  and  the  little  peninsula,  surrounded  on  three 
sides  by  water,  and  on  the  fourth  by  hills,  was  sufficient- 
ly impregnable  and  isolated  to  cause  existence  to  flow  on 
there  very  quietly,  in  what  townspeople  call  dullness,  and 
country  people  repose. 

.  For,  whatever  repose  there  may  be  in  country  life — 
real  country — there  is  certainly  no  monotony.  The  per- 
petual change  of  seasons,  varying  the  aspect  of  the  outside 
world  every  month,  every  week — nay,  almost  every  day, 
is  a  continual  interest  to  observant  minds,  and  especially 
so  to  intelligent  children,  who  are  as  yet  lying  on  the 
breast  of  Mother  Nature  only,  nor  have  begun  to  feel  or 


76  A  Noble  Life. 

understand  the  darker  and  sadder  interests  of  human  pas- 
sion and  emotion. 

The  little  Earl  of  Cairnforth  was  one  of  these ;  and 
many  a  time,  through  all  the  summers  of  his  life,  he  re- 
called tenderly  that  .first  summer  at  Cairnforth,  when,  no 
longer  pent  up  between  walls  and  roofs,  or  dragged  about 
in  carriages,  he  learned,  by  Malcolm's  aid  and  under  Hel- 
en's teaching,  to  chronicle  time  in  different  ways ;  first  by 
the  hyacinths  and  primroses  vanishing,  and  giving  place 
to  the  wild  roses — those  exquisite  deep-red  roses  which 
belong  especially  to  this  country-side ;  then  by  the  woods 
— his  own  woods — growing  fragrant  with  innumerable 
honeysuckles;  and  lastly  by  the  heather  on  the  moor- 
land— Scotland's  own  flower — which  clothes  entire  hill- 
sides as  with  a  garment  of  gorgeous  purple,  and  fills  the 
whole  atmosphere  wtih  the  scent  of  a  spice-garden ;  and 
when  it  faded  into  a  soft  brown,  dying  delicately,  beauti- 
ful to  the  last,  there  appeared  the  brambles,  trailing  every 
where,  with  their  pretty  yellowing  leaves  and  their  deli- 
cious berries.  How  blithe,  even  like  a  mere  "  callant," 
big  Malcolm  was,  when,  leaving  the  earl  on  the  sunny 
hill-side  under  Miss  Cardross's  charge,  he  used  to  wander 
off,  and  come  back  with  his  hands  all  torn  and  scratched, 
to  feed  his  young  master  with  blackberries ! 

"He  is  not  unhappy — I  am  sure  the  child  is  not  un- 
happy," Helen  often  said  to  her  father,  when — as  was  his 
way — Mr.  Cardross  would  get  fits  of  uncertainty  and 
downheartedness,  and  think  he  was  killing  his  pupil  with 
study,  or  wearying  him,  and  risking  his  health  by  letting 
him  do  as  much  as  his  energetic  mind,  always  dominant 
over  the  frail  body,  prompted  him  to  do.  "  Only  let  him 


A  Noble  Life.  77 

love  his  life,  and  put  as  much  in  it  as  he  can,  be  it  long 
or  short,  and  then  it  will  never  be  a  sad  life  or  a  life 
thrown  away." 

"Helen,  you're  not  clever,  but  you're  a  wise  little  wom- 
an, my  dear,"  the  minister  would  say,  patting  the  flaxen 
curls  or  the  busy  hands— large  and  brown,  yet  with  a 
certain  grace  about  them,  too— helpful  hands,  made  to 
hold  children,  or  tend  sick  folk,  or  sustain  the  feeble  steps 
of  old  age.  She  was  "  no  bonnie"  Helen  Cardross ;  it 
was  just  a  round,  rosy,  sonsie  face,  with  no  features  in 
particular,  but  she  was  pleasant  to  look  upon,  and  inex- 
pressibly pleasant  to  live  with ;  for  it  was  such  a  whole- 
some nature,  so  entirely  free  from  moods,  or  fancies,  or 
crotchets  of  any  kind — those  sad  vagaries  of  ill-health,  ill- 
humor,  and  ill-conditionedness  of  every  sort,  which  are 
sometimes  only  a  misfortune,  caused  by  an  unhappy  nat- 
ural temperament,  but  oftener  arise  from  pure  egotism, 
of  which  there  was  not  an  atom  in  Helen  Cardross.  Her 
life  was  like  the  life  of  a  flower — as  natural,  unconscious, 
fresh,  and  sweet :  she  took  in  every  influence  about  her, 
and  gave  out  freely  all  she  had  to  give ;  desired  no  bet- 
ter things  than  she  possessed,  and  where  she  was  planted 
there  she  grew. 

It  was  not  wonderful  that  the  little  earl  loved  %er, 
and  that  under  her  sunshiny  soul  his  life  too  blossomed 
out  as  it  might  never  otherwise  have  done,  but  have 
drooped  and  faded,  and  gone  back  into  the  darkness,  im- 
perfect and  unfulfilled;  for,  though  each  human  life  is, 
in  a  sense,  complete  to  itself,  and  must  work  itself  out  in- 
dependently, clinging  to  no  other,  still  there  is  a  great 
and  beautiful  mystery  in  the  way  one  life  seems  to  influ- 


78  A  Noble  Life. 

encean  other,  sometimes  for  ill,  but  far,  far  oftener  foi 
good. 

Lord  Cairnforth  was  not  much  with  the  Cardross  boys. 
He  liked  them,  and  evidently  craved  after  their  company, 
but  they  were  very  shy  of  him.  Sometimes  they  let 
Malcolm  bring  him  into  their  boat,  and  condescended  to 
TOW  him  up  and  down  the  loch,  a  mode  of  locomotion  in 
which  he  greatly  delighted ;  for,  at  best,  the  shaking  of 
the  great  lumbering  coach  was  not  easy  to  him,  and  he 
always  begged  to  be  carried  in  Malcolm's  arms  till  he 
found  how  pleasantly  he  could  lie  in  the  stern  of  the 
Manse  boat,  and  float  about  on  the  smooth  water,  watch- 
ing the  mountains  and  the  shores. 

True,  he  could  not  stir  an  inch  from  where  he  was  laid 
down,  but  he  lay  there  so  contentedly,  enjoying  every 
thing,  and  really  looked,  what  he  often  said  ho  was,  "  as 
happy -as  a  king." 

And  by  degrees,  with  a  little  home  persuasion  from 
Helen,  the  boys  got  reconciled  to  his  company — found, 
indeed,  that  he  was  not  such  bad  company  after  all;  for 
often,  when  they  were  tired  of  pulling,  and  let  the  boat 
drift  into  some  quiet  little  bay,  or  rock  lazily  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  loch,  the  little  earl  would  begin  talking — tell- 
ing stories,  which  soon  caught  the  attention  of  the  minis- 
ter's boys.  These  were  either  fragments  out  of  the  books 
he  had  read,  which  seemed  countless  to  the  young  Card- 
rosses,  or,  what  they  liked  still  better,  tales  "  out  of  his 
own  head ;"  and  these  tales  were  always  the  last  that  they 
would  have  expected  from  one  like  him — wild  exploits ; 
wanderings  over  South  American  prairies,  or  shipwrecks 
on  desert  islands ;  astonishing  feats  of  riding,  or  fighting, 


A  Noble  Life.  79 

or  traveling  by  land  and  sea — every  thing,  in  short,  be- 
longing to  that  sort  of  active,  energetic,  adventurous  life, 
of  which  the  relator  could  never  have  had  the  least  ex- 
perience, and  never  would  have  in  this  world.  Perhaps 
for  that  very  reason  his  fancy  delighted  therein  the  more. 

And  his  stories  were  enjoyed  by  others  as  much  as  by 
himself,  which  no  doubt  added  to  the  charm  of  them. 
When  winter  came,  and-  all  the  boating  days  were  done, 
many  a  night,  round  the  fire  of  the  Manse  parlor,  or  in 
the  <c  awful  eerie"  library  at  the  Castle,  the  earl  used  to 
have  a  whole  circle  of  young  people,  and  some  elder  ones 
too,  gathered  round  his  wheel-chair,  listening  to  his  won- 
derful tales  of  adventure  by  flood  and  field. 

«  Why  don't  you  write  them  out  properly  ?"  the  boys 
would  ask  sometimes,  forgetting  —  what  Helen  would 
never  have  forgotten.  But  he  only  looked  down  on  his 
poor  helpless  fingers  and  smiled. 

However,  he  had,  with  great  difficulty  and  pains,  man- 
aged to  learn  to  write — that  is,  to  sign  his  name,  or  in- 
dite any  short  letter  to  Mr.  Menteith  or  others,  which,  as 
he  grew  older,  sometimes  became  necessary.  But  writ- 
ing was  always  a  great  trouble  to  him ;  and,  fortunately, 
people  were  not  expected  to  write  much  in  those  days. 
Had  he  been  born  a  little  later  in  his  century,  the  Earl 
of  Cairnforth  might  have  brightened  his  sad  life  by  put- 
ting his  imagination  forth  in  print,  and  becoming  a  great 
literary  character ;  as  it  was,  he  merely  told  his  tales  for 
his  own  delight  and  that  of  those  about  him,  which  pos- 
sibly was  a  better  thing  than  fame. 

Then  he  made  jokes,  too.  Sometimes,  in  his  quiet, 
dry  way,  he  said  such  droll  things  that  the  Cardross  boys 


80  A  Noble  Life. 

fell  into  shouts  of  laughter.  He  had  the  rare  quality  of 
seeing  the  comical  side  of  things,  without  a  particle  of  ill- 
nature  being  mixed  up  with  his  fun.  His  wit  danced 
about  as  brilliantly  and  harmlessly  as  the  Northern  lights 
that  flashed  and  flamed  of  winter  nights  over  the  mount- 
ains at  the  head  of  the  loch ;  and  the  solid,  somewhat 
heavy  Manse  boys,  gradually  growing  up  to  men,  often 
wondered  why  it  was  that,  miserable  as  the  earl's  life  was, 
or  seemed  to  them,  they  always  felt  merrier  instead  of 
sadder  when  they  were  in  his  company. 

But  sometimes  when  with  Helen  alone,  and  more  es- 
pecially as  he  grew  to  be  a  youth  in  his  teens,  and  yet  no 
bigger,  no  stronger,  and  scarcely  less  helpless  than  a  child, 
the  young  earl  would  let  fall  a  word  or  two  which  showed 
that  he  was  fully  and  painfully  aware  of  his  own  condi- 
tion, and  of  all  that  it  entailed.  It  was  evident  that  he 
had  thought  much  and  deeply  of  the  future  which  lay  be- 
fore him.  If,  as  now  appeared  probable,  he  should  live 
to  man's  estate,  his  life  must,  at  best,  be  one  long  endur- 
ance, rendered  all  the  sharper  and  harder  to  bear  because 
within  that  helpless  body  dwelt  a  soul,  which  was,  more 
than  that  of  most  men,  alive  to  every  thing  beautiful, 
noble,  active,  and  good. 

However,  though  he  occasionally  betrayed  those  work- 
ings of  his  mind,  it  was  only  to  Helen,  and  not  to  her 
very  much,  for  he  was  exceedingly  self-contained  from 
his  very  childhood.  He  seemed  to  feel  by  instinct  that 
to  him  had  been  allotted  a  special  solitude  of  existence, 
into  which,  try  as  tenderly  as  they  would,  none  could 
ever  fully  penetrate,  and  with  which  none  could  wholly 
sympathize.  It  was  inevitable  in  the  nature  of  things. 


A  Noble  Life.  81 

He  apparently  accepted  the  fact  as  such,  and  did  not  at- 
tempt to  break  through  it.  He  took  the  strongest  in- 
terest in  other  people,  and  in  every  thing  around  him, 
but  he  did  not  seem  to  expect  to  have  the  like  returned 
in  any  great  degree.  Perhaps  it  was  one  of  those  merci- 
ful compensations  that  what  he  could  not  have  he  was 
made  strong  enough  to  do  without. 

So  things  went  on,  without  any  other  variety  than  an 
occasional  visit  from  Mr.  Menteith  or  Dr.  Hamilton,  for 
seven  years,  during  which  the  minister's  pupil  had  ac- 
quired every  possible  learning  that  his  teacher  could  give, 
and  was  fast  becoming  less  a  scholar  than  an  equal  com- 
panion and  friend — so  familiar  and  dear,  that  Mr.  Card- 
ross,  like  all  who  knew  him,  had  long  since  almost  for- 
gotten that  the  earl  was — what  he  was.  It  seemed  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that  he  should  sit  there 
in  his  little  chair,  doing  nothing ;  absolutely  passive  to 
all  physical  things;  but  interested  in  every  thing  and 
every  body,  and,  whether  at  the  Manse  or  the  Castle,  as 
completely  one  of  the  circle  as  if  he  took  the  most  active 
part  therein.  Consulted  by  one,  appealed  to  by  another, 
joked  by  a  third — he  was  ever  ready  with  a  joke — it  was 
only  when  strangers  happened  to  see  him,  and  were  start- 
led by  the  sight,  that  his  own  immediate  friends  recog- 
nized how  different  he  was  from  other  people. 

It  was  one  day  when  he  was  about  nineteen  that  Helen, 
coming  in  to  see  him  with  a  message  from  her  father, 
who  wanted  to  speak  to  him  about  some  parish  matters, 
found  Lord  Cairnforth  deeply  meditating  over  a  letter. 
He  slipped  it  aside,  however,  and  it  was  not  until  the 
whole  parish  question  had  been  discussed  and  settled,  as 

D2 


82  A  Noble  Life. 

somehow  he  and  Helen  very  often  did  settle  the  whole 
affairs  of  the  parish  between  them,  that  he  brought  it  out 
again,  fidgeting  it  out  of  his  pocket  with  his  poor  fingers, 
which  seemed  a  little  more  helpless  than  usual. 

"  Helen,  I  wish  you  would  read  that,  and  tell  me  what 
you  think  about  it?" 

It  was  a  letter  somewhat  painful  to  read,  with  the  earl 
sitting  by  and  watching  her,  but  Helen  had  long  learned 
never  to  shrink  from  these  sort  of  things.  He  felt  them 
far  less  if  every  body  else  faced  them  as  boldly  as  he  had 
himself  always  done. 

The  letter  was  from  Dr.  Hamilton,  written  after  his  re- 
turn'from  a  three  days'  visit  at  Cairnforth  Castle.  It  ex- 
.  plained,  after  a  long  apologetic  preamble,  the  burden  of 
which  was  that  the  earl  was  now  old  enough  and  thought- 
ful enough  to  be  the  best  person  to  speak  to  on  such  a 
difficult  subject,  that  there  had  been  a  certain  skillful 
mechanician  lately  in  Edinburg  who  declared  he  would 
invent  some  support  by  which  Lord  Cairnforth  could  be 
made,  not  indeed  to  walk — that  was  impossible — but  to 
be  by  many  degrees  more  active  than  now.  But  it  would 
be  necessary  for  him  to  go  to  London,  and  there  submit 
to  a  great  amount  of  trouble  and  inconvenience — possibly 
some  pain. 

"  I  tell  you  this  last,  my  dear  lord,"  continued  the  good 
doctor,  "  because  I  ought  not  to  deceive  you ;  and  be- 
cause, so  far  as  I  have  seen,  you  are  a  courageous  boy — 
nay,  almost  a  man — or  will  be  soon.  I  must  forewarn 
you  also  that  the  experiment  is  only  an  experiment — 
that  it  may  fail ;  but  even  in  that  case  you  would  be  only 
where  you  were  before — no  better,  no  worse,  except  for 
the  temporary  annoyance  and  suffering," 


A  Noble  Life.  83 

"And  if  it  succeeded?"  said  Helen,  almost  in  a  whis- 
per, as  she  returned  the  letter. 

The  earl  smiled — a  bright,  vague,  but  hopeful  smile — 
"  I  might  be  a  little  more  able  to  do  things — to  live  my 
life  with  a  little  less  trouble  to  myself,  and  possibly  to 
other  people.  "Well,  Helen  ?  You  don't  speak,  but  I 
think  your  eyes  say  '  Try !' " 

"Yes,  my  dear."  She  sometimes,  though  not  often 
now,  lest  it  might  vex  him  by  making  him  still  so  much 
of  a  child,  called  him  "  my  dear." 

This  ended  the  conversation,  which  Helen  did  not 
communicate  to  any  body,  nor  referred  to  again  with 
Lord  Cairnforth,  though  she  pondered  over  it  and  him 
continually.  < 

A  week  after  this,  Mr.  Menteith  unexpectedly  appear- 
ed at  the  Castle,  and  after  a  long  consultation  with  Mr. 
Cardross,  it  was  agreed  that  what  seemed  the  evident 
wish  of  the  earl  should  be  accomplished  if  possible;  that 
he,  Malcolm,  Mrs.  Campbell,  and  Mr.  Menteith  should 
start  for  London  immediately. 

Such  a  journey  was  then  a  very  different  thing  from 
what  it  is  n^w,.  and  to  so  helpless  a  traveler  as  Lord 
Cairnforth  its  difficulties  were  doubled.  He  had  to  post 
the  whole  distance  in  his  own  carriage,  which  was  fitted 
up  so  as  to  be  as  easy  as  possible  in  locomotion,  besides 
being  so  arranged  that  he  could  sleep  in  it  if  absolutely 
necessary,  for  ordinary  beds  and  ordinary  chairs  were 
sometimes  very  painful  to  him.  Had  he  been  born  poor, 
in  all  probability  he  would  long  ago  have  died — of  sheer 
suffering. 

Fortunately  it  was  summer  time.     He  staid  at  Cairn- 


84  A  Nobk  Life. 

forth  till  after  his  birthday,  "for  I  may  never  see  an- 
other," said  he,  with  that  gentle  smile  which  seemed  to 
imply  that  he  would  be  neither  glad  nor  sorry,  and  then 
he  started.  He  was  quite  cheerful  himself,  but  Mr.  Men- 
teith  and  Mrs.  Campbell  looked  very  anxious.  Malcolm 
was  fall  of  superstitious  forebodings,  and  Helen  Cardross 
and  her  father,  when  they  bade  him  good-by,  and  watch- 
ed the  carriage  drive  slowly  from  the  Castle  doors,  felt  as 
sad  as  if  they  were  parting  from  him,  not  for  London,  but 
for  the  other  world. 

Not  until  he  was  gone  did  they  recognize  how  much 
they  missed  him :  in  the  Manse  parlor,  where  "  the  earl's 
chair"  took  its  regular  place — in  the  pretty  Manse  gar- 
den, where  its  wheels  had  made  in  the  gravel  walks  deep 
marks  which  Helen  could  not  bear  to  have  erased — in 
his  pew  at  the  kirk,  where  the  minister  had  learned  to 
look  Sunday  after  Sunday,  for  that  earnest,  listening  face. 
Mr.  Cardross,  too,  found  it  dull  no  longer  to  have  his 
walk  up  to  the  Castle,  and  his  hour  or  two's  rest  in  the 
yet  unfinished  library,  which  he  and  Lord  Cairnforth  had 
already  begun  to  consult  about,  and  where  the  earl  was 
always  to  be  found,  sitting  at  his  little  table  with  his 
books  about  him,  and  Malcolm  lurking  within  call,  or 
else  placed  contentedly  by  the  French  window,  looking 
out  upon  that  blaze  of  beauty  into  which  the  countess's 
flower-garden  had  grown.  How  little  they  had  thought 
— the  young  father  and  mother,  cut  off  in  the  midst  of 
their  plans,  that  their  poor  child  would  one  day  so  keen- 
ly enjoy  them  all,  and  have  such  sore  need  for  these  or 
any  other  simple  and  innocent  enjoyments. 

"  Papa,  how  we  do  miss  him !"  said  Helen  one  day  as 


A  Noble  Life.  85 

she  walked  with  her  father  through  the  Cairnforth  woods. 
"  Who  would  have  thought  it  when  he  first  came  here 
only  a  few  years  ago?" 

"Who  would  indeed?"  said  the  minister,  remembering 
a  certain  walk  he  had  taken  through  these  very  paths 
nineteen  years  before,  when  he  had  wondered  why  Prov- 
idence had  sent  the  poor  babe  into  the  world  at  all,  and 
thought  how  far,  far  happier  it  would  have  been  lying 
dead  on  its  dead  mother's  bosom — that  beautiful  young 
mother,  whose  placid  face  upon  the  white  satin  pillows 
of  her  coffin  Mr.  Cardross  yet  vividly  recalled ;  for  he 
saw  it  often  reflected  in  the  living  face  of  the  son,  whom, 
happily,  she  had  died  without  beholding. 

"That  was  a  wise  saying  of  King  David's,  'Let  me  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  Lord,  and  not  into  the  hands  of 
men,' "  mused  Mr.  Cardross,  who  had  just  been  hearing 
from  Mr.  Menteith  a  long  story  of  his  perplexities  with 
"  those  Bruces,"  and  had  also  had  lately  a  few  domestic 
dissensions  in  his  own  parish,  which  did  quarrel  among 
itself  occasionally,  and  always  brought  its  quarrels  to  be 
settled  by  the  minister.  "  It  is  a  strange  thing,  Helen, 
my  dear,  what  wonderful  peace  there  often  is  in  great 
misfortunes.  They  are  quite  different  from  the  petty 
miseries  which  people  make  for  themselves." 

"  I  suppose  so.  But  do  you  think,  papa,  that  any  good 
will  come  out  of  this  London  journey  ?" 

"I  can  not  tell;  still,  it  was  right  to  try.  You  your- 
self said  it  was  right  to  try." 

"  Yes ;"  and  then,  seeing  it  was  done  now,  the  practi- 
cal, brave  Helen  stilled  her  uncertainties  and  let  the  mat- 
ter rest. 


86  A  Nobk  Life. 

No  one  was  surprised  that  weeks  elapsed  before  there 
came  any  tidings  of  the  travelers.  Then  Mr.  Menteith 
wrote,  announcing  their  safe  arrival  in  London,  which 
diffused  great  joy  throughout  the  parish,  for  of  course 
every  body  knew  whither  Lord  Cairnforth  had  gone, 
and  many  knew  the  reason  why.  Scarcely  a  week 
passed  that  some  of  the  far-distant  tenantry  even,  who 
lived  on  the  other  side  of  the  peninsula,  did  not  cross  the 
hills,  walking  many  miles  for  no  reason  but  to  ask  at  the 
Manse  what  was  the  latest  news  of  "  our  earl." 

But  after  the  first  letter  there  came  no  farther  tidings, 
and  indeed  none  were  expected.  Mr.  Menteith  had  prob- 
ably returned  to  Edinburg,  and  in  those  days  there  was 
no  penny  post,  and  nobody  indulged  in  unnecessary  cor- 
respondence. Still,  sometimes  Helen  thought,  with  a  sore 
uneasiness,  "  If  the  earl  had  had  good  news  to  tell,  he 
would  have  surely  told  it.  He  was  always  so  glad  to 
make  any  body  happy." 

The  long  summer  twilights  were  ended,  and  one  or 
two  equinoctial  gales  had  whipped  the  waters  of  Loch 
Beg  into  wild  "  white  horses,"  yet  still  Lord  Cairnforth 
did  not  return.  At  last,  one  Monday  night,  when  Helen 
and  her  father  were  returning  from  a  three  days'  absence 
at  the  "preachings" — that  is,  the  half-yearly  sacrament — 
in  a  neighboring  parish,  they  saw,  when  they  came  to 
the  ferry,  the  glimmer  of  lights  from  the  Castle  windows 
on  the  opposite  shore  of  the  loch. 

"I  do  believe  Lord  Cairnforth  is  come  home!" 

"  Ou  ay,  Miss  Helen,"  said  Duncan,  the  ferryman,  "his 
lordship  crossed  wi'  me  the  day ;  an'  I'm  thinking,  min- 
ister," added  the  old  man,  confidentially,  "  that  ye  suld 


A  Noble  Life.  87 

just  gang  up  to  the  Castle  an'  see  him  ;  for  it's  ma  opin- 
ion that  the  earl's  come  back  as  he  gaed  awa,  nae  better 
and  nae  waur." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  Did  he  say  any  thing?" 
"  Ne'er  a  word  but  just '  How  are  ye  the  day,  Duncan  ?' 
and  he  sat  and  glowered  at  the  hills  and  the  loch,  and 
twa  big  draps  rolled  down  his  puir  bit  facie — it's  grown 
sae  white  and  sae  sma',  ye  ken — and  I  said,  'My  lord, 
it's  grand  to  see  your  lordship  back.  Ye'll  no  be  gaun 
to  London  again,  I  hope?'  (Na,  na,'  says  he  ;  '  na,  Dun- 
can, I'm  best  at  hame — best  at  hame !'  And  when  Mal- 
colm lifted  him,  he  gied  a  bit  skreigh,  as  if  he'd  hurted 
himsel — Minister,  I  wish  I'd  thae  London  doctors  here 
by  our  loch  side,"  muttered  Duncan  between  his  teeth, 
and  pulling  away  fiercely  at  his  oar ;  but  the  minister 
said  nothing. 

He  and  Helen  went  silently  home,  and  finding  no  mes- 
sage, walked  on  as  silently  up  to  the  Castle  together. 


Ctwpttr 


OLD  Duncan's  penetration  had  been  correct — the  diffi- 
cult and  painful  London  journey  was  all  in  vain.  Lord 
Cairnforth  had  returned  home  neither  better  nor  worse 
than  he  was  before :  the  experiment  had  failed. 

Helen  and  her  father  guessed  this  from  their  first  sight 
of  him,  though  they  "had  found  him  sitting  as  usual  in 
his  arm-chair  at  his  favorite  corner,  and  when  they  en- 
tered the  library  he  had  looked  up  with  a  smile  —  the 
same  old  smile,  as  natural  as  though  he  had  never  been 
away. 

"  Is  that  you,  Mr.  Cardross  ?  Helen  too  ?  How  very 
kind  of  you  to  come  and  see  me  so  soon  !" 

But,  in  spite  of  his  cheerful  greeting,  they  detected  at 
once  the  expression  of  suffering  in  the  poor  face — usae 
white  and  sae  sma',"  as  Duncan  had  said ;  pale  beyond 
its  ordinary  pallor,  and  shrunken  and  withered  like  an 
old  man's ;  the  more  so,  perhaps,  as  the  masculine  down 
had  grown  upon  cheek  and  chin,  and  there  was  a  ma- 
tured manliness  of  expression  in  the  whole  countenance, 
which  formed  a  strange  contrast  to  the  still  puny  and 
childish  frame — alas !  not  a  whit  less  helpless  or  less  dis- 
torted than  before.  Yes,  the  experiment  had  failed. 

They  were  so  sure  of  this,  Mr.  Cardross  and  his  daugh- 
ter, that  neither  put  to  him  a  single  question  on  the  sub- 


92  A  Noble  Life. 

ject,  but  instinctively  passed  it  over,  and  kept  the  con- 
versation  to  all  sorts  of  commonplace  topics:  the  journey 
— the  wonders  of  London — and  the  small  events  which 
had  happened  in  quiet  Cairnforth  during  the  three 
months  that  the  earl  had  been  away. 

Lord  Cairnforth  was  the  first  to  end  their  difficulty 
and  hesitation  by  openly  referring  to  that  which  neither 
of  his  friends  could  bear  to  speak  of. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  at  last,  with  a  faint,  sad  smile,  "  I  agree 
with  old  Duncan — I  never  mean  to  go  to  London  any 
more.  I  shall  stay  for  the  rest  of  my  days  among  my 
own  people.7' 

uSo  much  the  better  for  them,"  observed  the  minister, 
warmly. 

"Do  you  think  that?  Well,  we  shall  see.  I  must 
try  and  make  it  so,  as  well  as  I  can.  I  am  but  where  I 
was  before,  as  Dr.  Hamilton  said.  Poor  Dr.  Hamilton ! 
he  is  so  sorry." 

Mr.  Cardross  did  not  ask  about  what,  but  turned  to  the 
table  and  began  cutting  open  the  leaves  of  a  book.  For 
Helen,  she  drew  nearer  to  Lord  Cairnforth's  chair,  and 
laid  over  the  poor,  weak,  wasted  fingers  her  soft,  warm 
hand. 

The  tears  sprang  to  the  young  earl's  eyea  "Don't 
speak  to  me,"  he  whispered ;  "  it  is  all  over  now ;  but  it 
was  very  hard  for  a  time." 

"I  know  it." 

"  Yes — at  least  as  much  as  you  can  know." 

Helen  was  silent  She  recognized,  as  she  had  never 
recognized  before,  the  awful  individuality  of  suffering 
which  it  had  pleased  God  to  lay  upon  this  one  human 


A  Noble  Life.  93 

being — suffering  at  which  even  the  friends  who  loved 
him  best  could  only  stand  aloof  and  gaze,  without  the 
possibility  of  alleviation. 

"Ay,"  he  said,  at  last,  "it  is  all  over:  I  need  try  no 
more  experiments.  I  shall  just  sit  still  and  be  content." 

What  was  the  minute  history  of  the  experiments  he 
had  tried,  how  much  bodily  pain  they  had  cost  him,  and 
through  how  much  mental  pain  he  had  struggled  before 
he  attained  that  "  content,"  he  did  not  explain  even  to 
Helen.  He  turned  the  conversation  to  the  books  which 
Mr.  Cardross  was  cutting,  and  many  other  books,  of  which 
he  had  bought  a  whole  cart-load  for  the  minister's  library. 
Neither  then,  nor  at  any  other  time,  did  he  ever  refer,  ex- 
cept in  the  most  cursory  way,  to  his  journey  to  London. 

But  Helen  noticed  that  for  a  long  while — weeks,  nay, 
months,  he  seemed  to  avoid  more  than  ever  any  conver- 
sation about  himself.  He  was  slightly  irritable  and  un- 
certain of  mood,  and  disposed  to  shut  himself  up  in  the 
Castle,  reading,  or  seeming  to.  read,  from  morning  till 
night.  It  was  not  till  a  passing  illness  of  the  minister's 
in  some  degree  forced  him  that  he  reappeared  at  the 
Manse,  and  fell  into  his  old  ways  of  coming  and  going, 
resuming  his  studies  with  Mr.  Cardross,  and  his  walks 
with  Helen — or  rather  drives,  for  he  had  ceased  to  be 
carried  in  Malcolm's  arms. 

• 

"  I  am  a  man  now,  or  ought  to  be,"  he  said  once,  as  a 
reason  for  this,  after  which  no  one  made  any  remarks  on 
the  subject.  Malcolm  still  retained  his  place  as  the  earl's 
close  attendant — as  faithful  as  his  shadow,  almost  as  silent 

But  the  next  year  or  so  made  a  considerable  alteration 
ii\  Lord  Cairnforth.  Not  in  growth — the  little  figure  never 


9-1  A  Noble  Life. 

grew  any  bigger  than  that  of  a  boy  of  ten  or  twelve ;  but 
the  childish  softness  passed  from  the  face ;  it  sharpened, 
and  hardened,  and  became  that  of  a  young  man.  The 
features  developed;  and  a  short  black  beard,  soft  and 
curly,  for  it  had  never  known  the  razor,  added  character 
to  what,  in  ordinary  men,  would  have  been  considered  a 
very  handsome  face.  It  had  none  of  the  painful  expres- 
sion so  often  seen  in  deformed  persons,  but  more  resem- 
bled those  sweet  Italian  heads  of  youthful  saints — Saint 
Sebastian's,  for  instance — which  the  old  masters  were  so 
fond  of  painting ;  and  though  there  was  a  certain  melan- 
choly about  it  when  in  repose,  during  conversation  it 
brightened  up,  and  was  the  cheerfullest,  most  sunshiny 
face  imaginable. 

That  is,  it  ultimately  became  so ;  but  for  a  long  time 
after  the  journey  to  London  a  shadow  hung  over  it,  which 
rarely  quite  passed  away  except  in  Helen's  company. 
Nobody  could  be  dreary  for  long  beside  Helen  Cardross ; 
and  either  through  her  companionship,  or  his  own  inher- 
ent strength  of  will,  or  both  combined,  the  earl  gradually 
recovered  from  the  bitterness  of  lost  hopes,  whatsoever 
they  had  been,  and  became  once  more  his  own  natural 
self,  perhaps  even  more  cheerful,  since  it  was  now  not  so 
much  the  gayety  of  a  boy  as  the  composed,  equable  se- 
renity of  a  thoughtful  man. 

His  education  might  be  considered  complete :  it  had 
advanced  to  the  utmost  limit  to  which  Mr.  Cardross  could 
carry  it;  but  the  pupil  insisted  on  retaining,  nominally 
and  pecuniarily,  his  position  at  the  Manse. 

Or  else  the  two  would  spend  hours — nay,  days,  shut 
up  together  in  the  Castle  library,  the  beautiful  octagon 


A  Noble  Life.  95 

room,  with  its  painted  ceiling,  and  its  eight  walls  lined 
from  floor  to  roof  with  empty  shelves,  to  plan  the  filling 
of  which  was  the  delight  of  the  minister's  life,  since,  but 
for  his  poor  parish  and  his  large  family,  Mr.  Cardross 
would  have  been  a  thorough  bibliomaniac.  Now,  in  a 
vicarious  manner,  the  hobby  of  his  youth  reappeared,  and 
at  every  cargo  of  books  that  arrived  at  the  Castle  his  old 
eyes  brightened — for  he  was  growing  to  look  really  an 
old  man  now — and  he  would  plunge  among  them  with 
an  ardor  that  sometimes  made  both  the  earl  and  Helen 
smile.  But  Helen's  eyes  were  dim  too,  for  she  saw 
through  all  the  tender  cunning,  and  often  watched  Lord 
Cairnforth  as  he  sat  contentedly  in  his  little  chair,  in  the 
midst  of  a  pile  of  books,  examining,  directing,  and  sym- 
pathizing, though  doing  nothing.  Alas !  nothing  could 
he  do.  But  it  was  one  of  the  secrets  which  made  these 
three  lives  so  peaceful,  that  each  could  throw  itself  out 
of  itself  into  that  of  another,  and  take  thence,  secondarily, 
the  sunshine  that  was  denied  to  its  own. 

Beyond  the  family  at  the  Manse  the  earl  had  no  ac- 
quaintance whatsoever,  and  seemed  to  desire  none.  His 
rank  lifted  him  above  the  small  proprietors  who  lived 
within  visitable  distance  of  the  Castle:  they  never  at- 
tempted to  associate  with  him.  Sometimes  a  stray  caller 
appeared,  prompted  by  curiosity,  which  Mrs.  Campbell 
generally  found  ingenious  reasons  for  leaving  ungratified, 
and  Lord  Cairnforth's  excessive  shyness  and  dislike  to 
appear  before  strangers  did  the  rest.  It  is  astonishing  \ 
how  little  the  world  cares  to  cultivate  those  out  of  whom  ) 
it  can  get  nothing ;  and  the  small  establishment  at  Cairn- 
forth Castle,  with  its  almost  invisible  head,  soon  ceased 


96  A  Noble  Life. 

to  be  an  object  of  interest  to  any  body — at  least  to  any 
body  in  that  sphere  of  life  where  the  earl  would  other- 
wise have  moved. 

Among  his  own  tenantry,  the  small  farmers  along  the 
shores  of  the  two  lochs  which  bounded  the  peninsula,  his 
long  minority  and  mysterious  affliction  made  him  person- 
ally almost  unknown.  They  used  to  come  twice  a  year, 
at  Whitsunday  and  Martinmas,  to  pay  their  rents  to  Mr. 
Menteith ;  to  inquire  for  my  lord's  health,  and  to  drink 
it  in  abundance  of  whisky ;  but  the  earl  himself  they 
never  saw,  and  their  feelings  toward  him  were  a  mixture 
of  reverence  and  awe. 

It  was  different  with  the  earl's  immediate  neighbors, 
the  humble  inhabitants  of  the  clachan.  These,  during 
the  last  nine  years,  had  gradually  grown  familiar,  first 
with  the  little  childish  form,  carried  about  tenderly  in 
Malcolm's  arms,  and  then  with  the  muffled  figure,  scarce- 
ly less  of  a  child  to  look  at,  which  Malcolm,  and  some- 
times Miss  Cardross,  drove  about  in  a  pony-chaise.  At 
the  kirk  especially,  though  he  was  always  carefully  con- 
veyed in  first,  and  borne  out  last  of  all  the  congregation, 
his  face — his  sweet,  kind,  beautiful  face  was  known  to 
them  all,  and  the  children  were  always  taught  to  doff 
their  bonnets  or  pull  their  forelocks  to  the  earl. 

Beyond  that,  nobody  knew  any  thing  about  him.  His 
large  property,  accumulating  every  year,  was  entirely  un- 
der the  management  of  Mr.  Menteith ;  he  himself  took 
no  interest  in  it ;  and  the  way  by  which  the  former  heirs 
of  Cairnforth  had  used  to  make  themselves  popular  from 
boyhood,  by  going  among  the  tenantry,  hunting,  shoot- 
ing, fishing,  and  boating,  was  impossible  to  this  earl.  His 


A  Noble  Life.  97 

distant  dependents  hardly  remembered  his  existence,  and 
he  took  no  heed  of  theirs,  until  a  few  months  before  he 
came  of  age,  when  one  of  these  slight  chances  which  oft- 
en determine  so  much  changed  the  current  of  affairs. 

It  was  just  before  the  "  term."  Mr.  Menteith  had  been 
expected  all  day,  but  had  not  arrived,  and  the  earl  had 
taken  a  long  drive  with  Helen  and  her  father  through 
the  Cairnforth  woods,  where  the  wild  daffodils  were  be- 
ginning to  succeed  the  fading  snowdrops,  and  the  mavises 
had  been  heard  to  sing  those  few  rich  notes  which  be- 
long especially  to  the  twilights  of  early  spring,  an  earn  • 
est  of  all  the  richness,  and  glory,  and  delight  of  the  year. 
The  little  party  seemed  to  feel  it — that  soft,  dreamy  sense 
of  dawning  spring,  which  stirs  all  the  soul,  especially  in 
youth,  with  a  vague  looking  forward  to  some  pleasant- 
ness which  never  comes.  They  sat,  silent  and  talking  by 
turns,  beside  the  not  unwelcome  fire,  in  a  corner  of  the 
large  library. 

"  We  shall  miss  Alick  a  good  deal  this  spring,"  said 
Helen,  recurring  to  a  subject  of  which  the  family  heart 
was  full,  the  departure  of  the  eldest  son  to  "begin  the 
world"  in  Mr.  Menteith's  office  in  Edinburg.  He  was 
not  a  very  clever  lad,  but  he  was  sensible  and  steady,  and 
blessed  with  that  practical  mother-wit  which  is  often  bet- 
ter than  brains.  The  minister,  though  he  had  been  be- 
moaning his  boy's  "  little  Latin  and  less  Greek,"  and  com- 
paring Alick's  learning  very  disadvantageously  with  that 
of  the  earl,  to  whom  Mr.  Cardross  confided  all  his  troub- 
les, nevertheless  seemed  both  proud  and  hopeful  of  his 
eldest  son,  the  heir  to  his  honest  name,  which  Alick 
would  now  carry  out  into  a  far  wider  world  than  that  of 

E 


98  A  Noble  Life. 

the  poor  minister  of  Cairnforth,  and  doubtless,  in  good 
time,  transmit  honorably  to  a  third  generation. 

"Yes,"  added  the  father,  when  innumerable  castles  in 
the  air  had  been  built  and  rebuilt  for  Alick's  future,  "I'll 
not  deny  that  my  lad  is  a  good  lad.  He  is  the  hope  of 
the  house,  and  he  knows  it.  It's  little  of  worldly  gear 
that  he'll  get  for  many  a  day,  and  he  tells  me  he  will 
have  to  work  from  morning  till  night ;  but  he  rather  en- 
joys the  prospect  than  not." 

"No  wonder.  Work  must  be  a  happy  thing,"  said, 
with  a  sigh,  the  young  Earl  of  Cairnforth. 

Helen's  heart  smote  her  for  having  let  the  conversation 
drift  into  this  direction,  as  it  did  occasionally,  when,  from 
their  long  familiarity  with  him,  they  forgot  how  he  must 
feel  about  many  things,  natural  enough  to  them,  but  to 
him,  unto  whom  the  outer  world,  with  all  its  duties,  en- 
ergies, enjoyments,  could  never  be  any  thing  but  a  name, 
full  of  sharpest  pain.  She  said,  after  a  few  minutes 
watching  of  the  grave,  still  face — not  exactly  sad,  but 
only  very  still,  very  grave — 

"  Jast  look  at  papa,  how  happy  he  is  among  those 
books  you  sent  for!  Your  plan  of  his  arranging  the 
library  is  the  delight  of  his  life." 

"  Is  it  ?  I  am  so  glad,"  said  the  earl,  brightening  up 
at  once.  "  What  a  good  thing  I  thought  of  it !" 

"You  always  do  think  of  every  thing  that  is  good 
and  kind,"  said  Helen,  softly. 

"Thank  you,"  and  the  shadow  passed  away,  as  any 
trifling  pleasure  always  had  power  to  make  it  pass. 
Sometimes  Helen  speculated  vaguely  on  what  a  grand 
gort  of  man  the  earl  would  have  been  had  he  been  like 


A  Noble  Life.  99 

other  people  —  bow  cheerful,  how  active,  how  energetic 
and  wise.  But  then  one  never  knows  how  far  circum- 
stances create  and  unfold  character.  We  often  learn  as 
much  by  what  is  withheld  as  by  what  is  enjoyed, 

"Helen,"  he  said,  moving  his  chair  a  little  nearer  her 
— he  had  brought  one  good  thing  from  London,  a  self- 
acting  chair,  in  which  he  could  wheel  himself  about  easi- 
ly, and  liked  doing  it —  "I  wonder  whether  your  father 
would  have  taken  as  much  pleasure  in  his  books  thirty 
years  ago.  Do  you  think  one  could  fill  up  one's  whole 
life  with  reading  and  study  ?" 

" I  can  not  say;  I'm  not  clever  myself,  you  know," 
"  Oh,  but  you  are — with  a  sort  of  practical  cleverness. 
And  so  is  Alick,  in  his  own  way,     How  happy  Alick 
must  be,  going  out  into  the  world,  with  plenty  to  do  all 
day  long!     How  bright  he  looked  this  morning!" 

"He  sees  only  the  sunny  side  of  things;  he  is  still  no 
more  than  a  boy," 

"  Not  exactly ;  he  is  a  year  older  than  I  am." 
Helen  hardly  knew  what  to  reply,     She  guessed  so 
well  the  current  of  the  earl's  thoughts,  which  were  often 
her  own  too,  as  she  watched  his  absent  or  weary  looks, 
though  he  tried  hard  to  keep  his  attention  to  what  Mr. 
Cardross  was  reading  or  discussing.     But  the  distance  \ 
between  twenty  and  sixty  —  the  life  beginning  and  the  \ 
life  advancing  toward  its  close' — was  frequently  appar-    J 
ent ;  also  between  an  active,  original  mind,  requiring  hu- 
manity for  its  study,  and  one  whose  whole  bent  was 
among  the  dry  bones  of  ancient  learning — the  difference, 
in  short,  between  learning  and  knowledge — the  mere  stu- 
dent and  the  man  who  only  uses  study  as  a  means  to  tho 


100  A  Noble  Life. 

perfecting  of  his  whole  nature,  his  complete  existence  as 
a  human  being. 

All  this  Helen  felt  with  her  quick,  feminine  instinct, 
but  she  did  not  clearly  understand  it,  and  she  could  not 
reason  about  it  at  all.  She  only  answered  in  a  troubled 
sort  of  way  that  she  thought  every  body,  somehow  or 
other,  might  in  time  find  enough  to  do  —  to  be  happy  in 
doing  —  and  she  was  trying  to  put  her  meaning  into 
more  connected  and  intelligible  form,  when,  greatly  to 
her  relief,  Malcolm  entered  the  library. 

Malcolm,  being  so  necessary  and  close  a  personal  at- 
tendant on  the  earl,  always  came  and  went  about  his 
master  without  any  body's  noticing  him ;  but  now  Helen 
fancied  he  was  making  signals  to  her  or  to  some  one. 
Lord  Cairnforth  detected  them. 

als  any  thing  wrong,  Malcolm?  Speak  out;  don't 
hide  things  from  me.  I  am  not  a  child  now." 

There  was  just  the  slightest  touch  of  sharpness  in  the 
gentle  voice,  and  Malcolm  did  speak  out. 

"  I  wadna  be  troubling  ye,  my  lord,  but  it's  just  an 
auld  man,  Dougal  Mac  Dougal,  frae  the  head  o'  Loch 
Mhor— a  puir  doited  body,  wha  says  he  maun  hae  a  bit 
word  wi'  your  lordship.  But  I  tellt  him  ye  couldna  be 
fashed  wi'  the  likes  o'  him.1' 

"  That  was  not  civil  or  right,  Malcolm  —  an  old  man, 
too.  Where  is  he?" 

"  Just  by  the  door — eh — and  he's  coming  ben — the  ill- 
mannered  loon !"  cried  Malcolm,  angrily,  as  he  interrupt- 
ed the  intruder — a  tall,  gaunt  figure  wrapped  in  a  shep- 
herd's plaid,  with  the  bonnet  set  upon  the  grizzled  head 
in  that  sturdy  independence  —  nay,  more  than  independ- 


A  Nolle  Life.  101 

ence —  rudeness,  rough  and  thorny  as  his  own  thistle, 
which  is  the  characteristic  of  the  Scotch  peasant  exter- 
nally, till  you  get  below  the  surface  to  the  warm,  kindly 
heart. 

'"I'm  no  ill-mannered,  and  I'll  just  gang  through  the 
hale  house  till  I  find  my  lord,"  said  the  old  man,  shaking 
off  Malcolm  with  a  strength  that  his  seventy  odd  years 
seemed  scarcely  to  have  diminished.  "  I'm  wushing  nae 
harm  to  ony  o'  ye,  but  I  maun  get  speech  o'  my  lord. 
He's  no  a  bairn ;  he'll  be  ane-and-twenty  the  thirtieth  o' 
June :  I  mind  the  day  weel,  for  the  wife  was  brought  to 
bed  o'  her  last  wean  the  same  day  as  the  countess,  and 
our  Dougal's  a  braw  callant  the  noo,  ye  ken.  Gin  the 
earl  has  ony  wits  ava,  whilk  folk  thocht  was  aye  doubt- 
fu',  he'll  hae  gotten  them  by  this  time.  I  maun  speak 
wi'  himsel',  unless,  as  they  said,  he's  no  a'  there." 

"  Haud  your  tongue,  ye  fule !"  cried  Malcolm,  stopping 
him  with  a  fierce  whisper.  "  Yon's  my  lord!" 

The  old  shepherd  started  back,  for  at  this  moment  a 
sudden  blaze-up  of  the  fire  showed  him,  sitting  in  the 
corner,  the  diminutive  figure,  attired  carefully  after  the 
tlien  fashion  of  gentlemen's  dress,  every  thing  rich  and 
complete,  even  to  the  black  silk  stockings  and  shoes  on 
the  small,  useless  feet,  and  the  white  ruffies  half  hiding 
the  twisted  wrists  and  deformed  hands. 

"  Yes,  I  am  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth.  What  did  you 
want  to  say  to  me  ?" 

He  was  so  bewildered,  the  rough  shepherd,  who  had 
spent  all  his  life  on  the  hill-sides,  and  never  seen  or  imag- 
ined so  sad  a  sight  as  this,  that  at  first  he  could  not  find 
a  word.  Then  he  said,  hanging  back  and  speaking  con- 


102  A  Noble  Life. 

fusedly  and  humbly,  "I  ask  your  pardon,  my  lord — I 
didna  ken — I'll  no  trouble  ye  the  day.7' 

"  But  you  do  not  trouble  me  at  all.  Mr.  Menteith  is 
not  here  yet,  and  I  know  nothing  about  business ;  still, 
if  you  wished  to  speak  to  me,  do  so ;  I  am  Lord  Cairn- 
forth." 

"  Are  ye  ?"  said  the  shepherd,  evidently  bewildered 
still,  so  that  he  forgot  his  natural  awe  for  his  feudal  su- 
perior. "  Are  ye  the  countess's  bairn,  that's  just  the  age 
o'  our  Dougal  ?  Dougal's  ane  o'  the  gamekeepers,  ye  ken 
— sic  a  braw  fellow — sax  feet  three.  Ye'll  hae  seen  him, 
maybe?" 

"  No,  but  I  should  like  to  see  him.  And  yourself — are 
you  a  tenant  of  mine,  and  what  did  you  want  with  me  ?" 

Encouraged  by  the  kindly  voice,  and  his  own  self-in- 
terest becoming  prominent  once  more,  old  Dougal  told 
his  tale — not  an  uncommon  one — of  sheep  lost  on  the 
hill-side,  and  one  misfortune  following  another,  until  a 
large  family,  children  and  orphan  grandchildren,  were 
driven  at  last  to  want  the  "sup  o'  parritch"  for  daily 
food,  sinking  to  such  depths  of  poverty  as  the  earl  in  his 
secluded  life  had  never  even  heard  of.  And  yet  the 
proud  old  fellow  asked  nothing  except  the  remission  of 
one  year's  rent,  after  having  paid  rent  honestly  for  half  a 
lifetime.  That  stolid,  silent  endurance,  which  makes  a 
Scotch  beggar  of  any  sort  about  the  last  thing  you  ever 
meet  with  in  Scotland,  supported  him  to  the  very  end. 

The  earl  was  deeply  touched.  As  a  matter  of  course, 
he  promised  all  that  was  desired  of  him,  and  sent  the  old 
shepherd  away  happy ;  but  long  after  Dougal's  departure 
he  sat  thoughtful  and  grave. 


A  Nolle  Life.  103 

"Can  such  things  be,  Helen,  and  I  never  heard  of  them? 
Are  some  of  my  people — they  are  my  people,  since  the 
land  belongs  to  me — as  terribly  poor  as  that  man  ?" 

"  Ay,  very  many,  though  papa  looks  after  them  as 
much  as  he  can.  Dougal  is  out  of  his  parish,  or  he  would 
have  known  him.  Papa  knows  every  body,  and  takes 
care  of  every  body,  as  far  as  possible." 

"  So  ought  I — or  I  must  do  it  when  I  am  older,"  said 
the  earl,  thoughtfully. 

"  There  will  be  110  difficulty  about  that  when  you  come 
of  age  and  enter  on  your  property.7' 

"Is  it  a  very  large  property?  for  I  never  heard  or  in- 
quired." 

"Very  large." 

"  Show  me  its  boundary ;  there  is  the  map." 

Helen  took  it  down  and  drew  with  a  pencil  the  limits 
of  the  Cairnforth  estates.  They  extended  along  the 
whole  peninsula,  and  far  up  into  the  main  land. 

14  There,  Lord  Cairnforth,  every  bit  of  this  is  yours." 

"  To  do  exactly  what  I  like  with  ?" 

"Certainly." 

"  Helen,  it  is  an  awfully  serious  thing." 

Helen  was  silent. 

"How  strange!"  he  continued,  after  a  pause.  "And 
this  was  really  all  mine  from  the  very  hour  of  my  birth  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  when  I  come  of  age  I  shall  have  to  take  my 
property  into  my  own  hands,  and  manage  it  just  as  I 
choose,  or  as  I  can?" 

"  Of  course  you  will ;  and  I  think  you  can  do  it,  if  you 
try." 


104  A  Noble  Life. 

For  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  Helen  had  pondered 
over  these  things,  since,  being  neither  learned  nor  poet- 
ical, worldly-minded  nor  selfish,  in  her  silent  hours  her 
mind  generally  wandered  to  the  practical  concerns  of 
other  people,  and  especially  of  those  she  loved. 

"  '  Try'  ought  to  be  the  motto  of  the  Cardross  arms — 
of  yours  certainly,"  said  Lord  Cairnforth,  smiling.  "  I 
should  like  to  assume  it  on  mine,  instead  of  my  own 
'Virtute  et  fide,'  which  is  of  little  use  to  me.  How  can  I 
—/—be  brave  or  faithful?'1 

"  You  can  be  both — and  you  will,"  said  Helen,  softly. 
Years  from  that  day  she  remembered  what  she  had  said, 
and  how  true  it  was. 

A  little  while  afterward,  while  the  minister  still  re- 
mained buried  in  his  beloved  books,  Lord  Cairnforth  re- 
curred again  to  Dougal  Mac  Dougal. 

11  The  old  fellow  was  right.  If  I  am  ever  to  have  'ony 
wits  ava,'  I  ought  to  have  them  by  this  time.  I  am  near- 
ly twenty-one.  Any  other  young  man  would  have  been 
a  man  long  ago.  And  I  will  be  a  man — why  should  I 
not?  True  manliness  is  not  solely  outside.  I  dare  say 
you  could  find  many  a  fool  and  a  coward  six  feet  high." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Helen,  all  she  could  find  to  say. 

"And  if  I  have  nothing  else,  I  have  brains — quite  as 
good  brains,  I  think,  as  my  neighbors.  They  can  nut  say 
of  me  now  that  I'm  *  no  a'  there.'  Nay,  Helen,  don't  look 
so  fierce;  they  meant  me  no  ill;  it  was  but  natural. 
Yes,  God  has  left  me  something  to  be  thankful  for." 

The  earl  lifted  his  head — the  only  part  of  his  frame 
which  he  could  move  freely,  and  his  eyes  flashed  under 
his  broad  brows.  Thoroughly  manly  brows  they  were, 


A  Nolle  Life.  105 

wherein  any  acute  observer  might  trace  that  clear  sound 
sense,  active  energy,  and  indomitable  perseverance  which 
make  the  real  man,  and  lacking  which  the  "brawest" 
young  fellow  alive  is  a  mere  body — an  animal  wanting 
the  soul. 

"I  wonder  how  I  should  set  about  managing  my  prop- 
erty. The  duty  will  not  be  as  easy  for  me  as  for  most 
people,  you  know,"  added  he,  sadly ;  "  still,  if  I  had  a 
secretary — a  thorough  man  of  business,  to  teach  me  all 
about  business,  arid  to  be  constantly  at  my  side,  perhaps 
I  might  be  able  to  accomplish  it.  And  I  might  drive 
about  the  country— driving  is  less  painful  to  me  now — 
and  get  acquainted  with  my  people ;  see  what  they  want- 
ed, and  how  I  could  best  help  them.  They  would  get 
used  to  me,  too.  I  might  turn  out  to  be  a  very  respecta- 
ble laird,  and  become  interested  in  the  improvement  of 
my  estates." 

"  There  is  great  opportunity  for  that,  I  know,"  replied 
Helen.  And  then  she  told  him  of  a  conversation  she, 
had  heard  between  her  father  and  Mr.  Menteith,  when 
the  latter  had  spoken  of  great  changes  impending  over 
quiet  Cairnforth :  how  a  steamer  was  to  begin  plying  up 
and  down  the  loch — how  there  were  continual  applica- 
tions for  land  to  be  feued  —  and  how  all  these  improve- 
ments would  of  necessity  require  the  owner  of  the  soil  to 
take  many  a  step  unknown  to  and  undreamed  of  by  his 
forefathers  —  to  make  roads,  reclaim  hill  and  moorland, 
build  new  farms,  churches,  and  school-houses. 

u  In  short,  as  Mr.  Menteith  said,  the  world  is  changing 
so  fast  that  the  present  Earl  of  Cairnforth  will  have  any 
thing  but  the  easy  life  of  his  father  and  grandfather." 

E2 


106  A  Noble  Life. 

"Did  Mr. Menteith  say  that?"  cried  the  earl,  eagerly. 

"  He  did,  indeed ;  I  heard  him." 

"And  did  he  seem  to  think  that  I  should  be  able  for 
it?" 

"  I  can  not  tell,"  answered  truthful  Helen.  "  He  said 
not  a  word  one  way  or  the  other  about  your  being  capa- 
ble of  doing  the  work ;  he  only  said  the  work  was  to  be 
done." 

"  Then  I  will  try  and  do  it." 

The  earl  said  this  quietly  enough,  but  his  eyes  gleamed 
and  his  lips  quivered. 

Helen  laid  her  hand  upon  his,  much  moved.  "I  said 
you  were  brave  —  always;  still,  you  must  think  twice 
about  it,  for  it  will  be  a  very  responsible  duty — enough, 
Mr.  Menteith  told  papa,  to  require  a  man's  whole  ener- 
gies for  the  next  twenty  years." 

"I  wonder  if  I  shall  live  so  long.  Well,  I  am  glad; 
Helen.  It  will  be  something  worth  living  for." 


Cjwpfer  tire  Imtrfy* 


MALCOLM'S  saying  that  "  if  my  lord  taks  a  thing  into 
his  heid  he'll  aye  do't,  ye  ken,"  was  as  true  now  as  when 
the  earl  was  a  little  boy. 

Mr.  Menteith  hardly  knew  how  the  thing  was  accom- 
plished— indeed,  he  had  rather  opposed  it,  believing  the 
mere  physical  impediments  to  his  ward's  overlooking  his 
own  affairs  were  insurmountable ;  but  Lord  Cairnforth 
contrived  in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two  to  initiate  him- 
self very  fairly  in  all  the  business  attendant  upon  the 
"  term ;"  to  find  out  the  exact  extent  and  divisions  of  his 
property,  and  to  whom  it  was  feued.  And  on  term-day 
he  proposed,  though  with  an  evident  effort  which  touched 
the  old  lawyer  deeply,  to  sit  beside  Mr.  Menteith  while 
the  tenants  were  paying  their  rents,  so  as  to  become  per« 
sonally  known  to  each  of  them. 

Many  of  these,  like  Dongal  Mac  Dougal,  were  over, 
come  with  surprise,  nay,  something  more  painful  than 
surprise,  at  the  sight  of  the  small  figure  which  was  the 
last  descendant  of  the  noble  Earls  of  Cairnforth,  and  with 
whom  the  stalwart  father  and  the  fair  young  mother, 
looking  down  from  the  pictured  walls,  contrasted  so 
piteously ;  but  after  the  first  shock  was  over  they  car- 
ried away  only  the  remembrance  of  his  sweet,  grave  face, 
and  his  intelligent  and  pertinent  observations,  indicating 


110  A  Noble  Life. 

a  shrewdness  for  which,  even  Mr.  Menteith  was  unpre- 
pared. When  he  owned  this,  after  business  was  done, 
the  young  earl  smiled,  evidently  much  gratified. 

"Yes,  I  don't  think  they  can  say  of  me  that  I'm  '  no  a1 
there!  ;7  Also  he  that  evening  confessed  to  Helen  that 
he  found  "business"  nearly  as  interesting  as  Greek  and 
Latin,  perhaps  even  more  so,  for  there  was  something 
human  in  it,  something  which  drew  one  closer  to  one's 
fellow-creatures,  and  benefited  other  people  besides  one's 
self  "  I  think,"  he  added,  "  I  should  rather  enjoy  being 
what  is  called  'a  good  man  of  business.' " 

He  pleaded  so  hard  for  farther  instruction  in  all  per- 
taining to  his  estate  that  Mr.  Menteith  consented  to  spare 
two  whole  weeks  out  of  his  busy  Edinburg  life,  during 
which  Lord  Cairnforth  and  he  were  shut  up  together  for 
a  great  part  of  every  day,  investigating  matters  connect- 
ed with  the  property,  and  other  things  which  hitherto  in 
the  young  man's  education  had  been  entirely  neglected. 

"For,"  said  his  guardian,  sadly,  "I  own,  I  never 
thought  of  him  as  a  young  man — or  as  a  man  at  all ; 
nevertheless,  he  is  one,  and  will  always  be.  That  clear, 
cool  head  of  his,  just  for  brains,  pure  brains,  is  worth  both 
his  father's  and  grandfather's  put  together.'^ 

And  when  Helen  repeated  this  saying  to.  Lord  Cairn- 
forth, he  smiled  his  exceedingly  bright  smile,  and  was 
more  than  cheerful,  joyous,  for  days  after. 

On  Mr.  Menteith's  return  home,  he  sent  back  to  the 
Castle  one  of  his  old  clerks,  who  had  been  acquainted 
with  the  Cairnforth  affairs  for  nearly  half  a  century ;  he 
also  was  astonished  at  the  capacity  which  the  young  eai  1 
showed.  Of  course,  physically,  he  was  entirely  helpless  j 


A  Noble  Life.  Ill 

the  little  forked  stick  was  still  in  continual  requisition ; 
nor  could  he  write  except  with  much  difficulty ;  but  he 
had  the  faculty  of  arrangement  and  order,  and  the  rare 
power— rarer  than  is  supposed — of  guiding  and  govern- 
ing, so  that  what  he  could  not  do  himself  he  could  direct 
others  how  to  do,  and  thus  attain  his  end  so  perfectly, 
that  even  those  who  knew  him  best  were  oftentimes  a<j- 
tually  amazed  at  the  result  he  effected. 

Then  he  enjoyed  his  work ;  took  such  an  interest  in 
the  plans  for  feuing  land  along  the  loch-side,  and  the  sort 
of  houses  that  was  to  be  built  upon  each  feu,  the  roads 
he  would  have  to  make,  and  especially  in  the  grand 
wooden  pier  which,  by  Mr.  Menteith's  advice,  was  short- 
ly to  be  erected  in  lieu  of  the  little  quay  of  stones  at  the 
ferry,  which- had  hitherto  served  as  Cairnforth's  chief  link 
with  the  outside  world. 

If  Mr.  Cardross  and  Helen  grieved  a  little  over  this  ad- 
vancing tide  of  civilization,  which  might  soon  sweep  away 
many  things  old  and  dear  from  the  shores  of  beautiful 
Loch  Beg,  they  grew  reconciled  when  they  saw  the  light 
in  the  earl's  eyes,  and  heard  him  talk  with  an  interest 
and  enthusiasm  quite  new  to  him  of  what  he  meant  to  do 
when  he  came  of  age.  Only  in  all  his  projects  was  one 
peculiarity  rather  uncommon  in  young  heirs — the  entire 
absence  of  any  schemes  for  personal  pleasure.  Comforts 
he  had,  of  course ;  his  faithful  friends  and  servants  took 
care  that  his  condition  should  have  every  alleviation  that 
wealth  could  furnish ;  but  of  enjoyments,  after  the  fash- 
ion of  youth,  he  planned  nothing ;  for,  indeed,  what  of 
them  was  left  him  to  enjoy  ? 

And  so,  faster  than  usual,  being  so  well  filled  with  oc- 


112  A  Noble  Life. 

cupations,  the  weeks  and  months  slipped  by,  until  the 
important  thirtieth  of  June,  when  Mr.  Menteith's  term  of 
guardianship  would  end,  and  a  man's  free  life  and  inde- 
pendent duties,  so  far  as  he  could  perform  them,  would 
legally  begin  for  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth. 

There  had  been  great  consultations  on  this  topic  all 
along  the  two  lochs,  and  beyond  them,  for  Dougal  Mac 
Dougal  had  carried  his  story  of  the  earl  and  his  good- 
ness to  the  extreme  verge  of  the  Cairnforth  territory. 
Throughout  June  the  Manse  was  weekly  haunted  by  ten- 
ants arriving  from  all  quarters  to  consult  the  minister,  the 
universal  referee,  as  to  how  best  they  could  celebrate  the 
event,  which,  whenever  it  occurred,  had  for  generations 
been  kept  gloriously  in  the  little  peninsula,  though  no 
case  was  known  of  any  earl's  attaining  his  majority  as 
being  already  Earl  of  Cairnforth.  The  Montgomeries 
were  usually  a  long-lived  race,  and  their  heirs  rarely 
came  to  their  titles  till  middle-aged  fathers  of  families. 

"But  we  maun  hae  grand  doings  this  time,  ye  ken," 
said  an  old  farmer  to  the  minister,  "for  I  doubt  there'll 
ne'er  be  anither  Earl  o'  Cairnforth." 

"Which  fact  every  one  seemed  sorrowfully  to  recognize. 
It  was  not  only  probable,  but  right,  that  in  this  Lord 
Cairnforth — so  terribly  afflicted — the  long  line  should 
end. 

As  the  day  of  the  earl's  majority  approached,  the  min- 
ister's feelings  were  of  such  a  mingled  kind  that  he 
shrank  from  these  demonstrations  of  joy,  and  rather  re- 
pressed the  warm  loyalty  which  was  springing  up  every 
where  toward  the  young  man.  But  after  taking  counsel 
with  Helen,  who  saw  into  things  a  little  deeper  than  he 


A  Noble  Life.  113 

did,  Mr.  Cardross  decided  that  it  was  better  all  should  be 
done  exactly  as  if  the  present  lord  were  not  different  from 
his  forefathers,  and  that  he  should  be  helped  both  to  act 
and  to  feel  as  like  other  people  as  possible. 

Therefore,  on  a  bright  June  morning,  as  bright  as  that 
of  his  sad  birth-day  and  his  mother's  death-day,  twenty- 
one  years  before,  the  earl  awoke  to  the  sound  of  music 
playing — if  the  national  pipes  of  the  peninsula  could  be 
called  music  —  underneath  his  window,  and  heard  his 
good  neighbors  from  the  clachan,  young  and  old,  men, 
women,  and  bairns,  uniting  their  voices  in  one  hearty 
shout,  wishing  "  A  lang  life  and  a  merry  ane"  to  the  Earl 
of  Cairnforth. 

Whether  or  not  the  young  man's  heart  echoed  the 
wish,  who  could  tell  ?  It  was  among  the  solemn  secrets 
which  every  human  soul  has  to  keep,  and  ever  must  keep, 
between  itself  and  its  Maker. 

Yery  soon  the  earl  appeared  out  of  doors,  wheeling 
himself  along  the  terrace  in  his  little  chair,  answering 
smilingly  the  congratulations  of  every  body,  and  evi- 
dently enjoying  the  pleasant  morning,  the  sunshine,  and 
the  scent  of  the  flowers  in  what  was  still  called  "the 
countess's  garden."  People  noticed  afterward  how  very 
like  he  looked  that  day  to  his  beautiful  mother;  and  many 
a  mother  out  of  the  clachan,  who  remembered  the  lady's 
face  still,  and  how,  during  her  few  brief  months  of  mar- 
ried happiness  and  hope,  she  used  to  stop  her  pretty 
pony-carriage  to  notice  every  poor  woman's  baby  she 
chanced  to  pass — many  of  these  now  regarded  pitifully 
and  tenderly  her  only  son,  the  last  heir  of  the  last 
Countess  of  Cairnforth. 


114  A  Noble  Life. 

Yet  lie  certainly  enjoyed  himself,  there  could  be  no 
doubt  of  it ;  and  when,  later  in  the  day,  he  discovered  a 
conspiracy  between  the  Castle,  the  Manse,  and  the  clach- 
an,  which  resulted  in  a  grand  feast  on  the  lawn,  he  was 
highly  delighted. 

"All  this  for  me!"  he  cried,  almost  childish  in  his 
pleasure.  "How  good  every  body  is  to  me !" 

And  he  insisted  on  mixing  with  the  little  crowd,  and 
seeing  them  sit  down  to  their  banquet,  which  they  ate  as 
if  they  had  never  eaten  in  their  lives  before,  and  drank 
— as  Highlanders  can  drink,  and  Highlanders  alone. 
But,  before  the  whisky  began  to  grow  dangerous,  the 
oldest  man  among  the  tenantry,  who  declared  that  he 
could  remember  three  Earls  of  Cairnforth,  proposed  the 
health  of  this  earl,  which  was  received  with  acclamations 
long  and  loud,  the  pipers  playing  the  family  tune  of 
"  Montgomerie's  Keel,"  which  was  chiefly  notable  for  hav- 
ing neither  beginning,  middle,  nor  ending. 

Lord  Cairnforth  bowed  his  head  in  acknowledgment. 

"  Ought  not  somebody  to  make  a  little  speech  of  thanks 
to  them?"  whispered  he  to  Helen  Cardross,  who  stood 
close  behind  his  chair. 

"  You  should ;  and  I  think  you  could,"  was  her  an- 
swer. 

"Yery  well;  I  will  try." 

And  in  his  poor  feeble  voice,  which  trembled  much, 
yet  was  distinct  and  clear,  he  said  a  few  words,  very  short 
and  simple,  to  the  people  near  him.  He  thanked  them 
for  all  this  merry-making  in  his  honor,  and  said  "  he  was 
exceedingly  happy  that  day."  He  told  them  he  meant 
always  to  reside  at  Cairnforth,  and  to  carry  out  all  sorts 


A  Noble  Life.  115 

of  plans  for  the  improvement  of  his  estates,  both  for  his 
tenants'  benefit  and  his  own.  That  he  hoped  to  be  both  a 
just  and  kind  landlord,  working  with  and  for  his  tenant- 
ry to  the  utmost  of  his  power. 

"  That  is,"  he  added,  with  a  slight  fall  of  the  voice, 
"  to  the  utmost  of  those  few  powers  which  it  has  pleased 
Heaven  to  give  me." 

After  this  speech  there  was  a  full  minute's  silence,  ten- 
der, touching  silence,  and  then  arose  a  cheer,  long  and 
loud,  such  as  had  rarely  echoed  through  the  little  penin- 
sula on  the  coming  of  age  of  any  Lord  Cairnforth. 

"When  the  tenantry  had  gone  away  to  light  bonfires  on 
the  hill-side,  and  perform  many  other  feats  of  jubilation, 
a  little  dinner-party  assembled  in  the  large  dining-room, 
which  had  been  so  long  disused,  for  the  earl  always  pre- 
ferred the  library,  which  was  on  a  level  with  his  bed- 
room, whence  he  could  wheel  himself  in  and  out  as  he 
pleased.  To-day  the  family  table  was  outspread,  and  the 
family  plate  glittered,  and  the  family  portraits  stared 
down  from  the  wall  as  the  last  Earl  of  Cairnforth  moved 
— or  rather  was  moved — slowly  down  the  long  room. 
Malcolm  was  wheeling  him  to  a  side  seat  well  sheltered 
and  comfortable,  when  he  said, 

"  Stop !  Eemember  I  am  twenty-one  to-day.  I  think 
I  ought  to  take  my  seat  at  the  head  of  my  own  table." 

Malcolm  obeyed.  And  thus,  for  the  first  time  since 
the  late  earl's  death,  the  place — the  master's  place — was 
filled. 

"Mr.  Cardross,  will  you  say  grace?" 

The  minister  tried  once — twice — thrice;  but  his  voice 
failed  him.  His  tender  heart,  which  had  lived  through 


116  A  Noble  Life. 

so  many  losses,  and  this  day  saw  all  the  past  brought  be- 
fore him  vivid  as  yesterday,  entirely  broke  down.  There- 
upon the  earl,  from  his  seat  at  the  head  of  his  own  table, 
repeated  simply  and  naturally  the  few  words  which  every 
head  of  a  household — as  priest  in  his  own  family — may 
well  say,  "  For  these  and  all  other  mercies,  Lord,  make  us 
thankful." 

After  that,  Mr.  Mentieth  took  snuff  vehemently,  and 
Mr.  Cardross  openly  wiped  his  eyes.  But  Helen's,  if  not 
quite  dry,  were  very  bright.  Her  woman's  heart,  which 
looked  beyond  the  pain  of  suffering  into  the  beauty  of 
suffering  nobly  endured,  even  as  faith  looks  through 
"the  grave  and  gate  of  death"  into  the  glories"  of  immor- 
tality— Helen's  heart  was  scarcely  sad,  but  very  glad  and 
proud. 

The  day  after  Lord  Cairnforth's  coming  of  age  Mr. 
Menteith  formally  resigned  his  trust.  He  had  managed 
the  property  so  successfully  during  the  long  minority 
that  even  he  himself  was  surprised  at  the  amount  of 
money,  both  capital  and  income,  which  the  earl  was  now 
master  of,  without  restriction  or  reservation,  and  free  from 
the  control  of  any  human  being. 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  said  he,  when  the  young  man  seemed 
subdued  and  almost  overcome  by  the  extent  of  his  own 
wealth,  "it  is  really  all  your  own.  You  may  make  ducks 
and  drakes  of  it,  as  the  saying  goes,  as  soon  as  ever  you 
please.  You  are  accountable  for  it  to  no  one — except 
One,"  added  the  good,  honest,  religious  man,  now  grow- 
ing an  old  man,  and  a  little  gentler,  graver,  as  well  as  a 
little  more  demonstrative  than  he  had  been  twenty  years 
before. 


A  Noble  Life.  117 

"  Except  One.  I  know  that ;  I  hope  I  shall  never  for- 
get it,"  replied  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth. 

And  then  they  proceeded  to  wind  up  their  business 
affairs. 

"  How  strange  it  is,"  observed  the  earl,  when  they  had 
nearly  concluded,  "how  very  strange  that  I  should  be 
here  in  the  world,  an  isolated  human  being,  with  not  a 
single  blood  relation,  not  a  soul  who  has  any  real  claim 
upon  me  I" 

"Certainly  not — no  claim  whatsoever;  and  yet  you 
are  not  quite  without  blood  relations." 

Lord  Cairnforth  looked  surprised.  "  I  always  under- 
stood that  I  had  no  near  kindred." 

"  Of  near  kindred  you  have  none.  But  there  are  cer- 
tain far-away  cousins,  of  whom,  for  many  reasons,  I  never 
told  you,  and  begged  Mr.  Cardross  not  to  tell  you  either." 

"I  think  I  ought  to  have  been  told." 

Mr.  Mentieth  explained  his  strong  reasons  for  silence, 
such  as  the  late  lord's  unpleasant  experience — and  his 
own — of  the  Bruce  family,  and  the  necessity  he  saw  for 
keeping  his  ward  quite  out  of  their  association  and  their 
influence  till  his  character  was  matured,  and  he  was  of  an 
age  to  judge  for  himself,  and  act  for  himself,  concerning 
them.  All  the  more,  because,  remote  as  their  kinship 
was,  and  difficult  to  be  proved,  still,  if  proved,  they  would 
be  undoubtedly  his  next  heirs. 

"My  next  heirs,"  repeated  the  earl — "of  course.  I 
must  have  an  heir.  I  wonder  I  never  thought  of  that. 
If  I  died,  there  must  be  somebody  to  succeed  me  in  the 
title  and  estates." 

"Not  in  the  title,"  said  Mr.  Mcnteith,  hesitating,  for  he 


118  A  Noble  Life. 

saw  it  was  opening  a  subject  most  difficult  and  painful, 
yet  which  must  be  opened  some  time  or  other,  and  the 
old  man  was  too  honest  to  shrink  from  so  doing,  if  nec- 
essary. 

"Why  not  the  title?" 

"  It  is  entailed,  and  can  be  inherited  in  the  direct  male 
line  only." 

" That  is,  it  descends  from  father  to  son?" 

"  Exactly  so." 

"I  see,"  said  the  young  man,  after  a  long  pause. 
"Then  I  am  the  last  Earl  of  Cairnforth." 

There  was  no  answer.  Mr.  Menteith  could  not  for  his 
life  have  given  one ;  besides,  none  seemed  required.  The 
earl  said  it  as  if  merely  stating  a  fact  beyond  which  there 
is  no  appeal,  and  neither  expecting  nor  desiring  any  ref- 
utation or  contradiction. 

"Now,"  Lord  Cairnforth  continued,  suddenly  changing 
the  conversation,  "let  us  speak  once  more  of  the  Bruces, 
who,  you  say,  might  any  day  succeed  to  my  fortune,  and 
would  probably  make  a  very  bad  use  of  it." 

"I  believe  so;  upon  my  conscience  I  do!"  said  Mr. 
Menteith,  earnestly,  "else  I  never  should  have  felt  justi- 
fied in  keeping  them  out  of  your  way  as  I  have  done.1' 

"Who  are  they?  I  mean,  of  what  does  the  family 
consist?" 

"  An  old  man — Colonel  Bruce  he  calls  himself,  and  is 
known  as  such  in  every  disreputable  gambling  town  on 
the  Continent ;  a  long  tribe  of  girls,  and  one  son,  eldest 
or  youngest,  I  forget  which,  who  was  sent  to  India 
through  some  influence  I  used  -for  your  father's  sake,  but 
who  may  be  dead  by  now  for  aught  I  know.  Indeed, 


A  Noble  Life.  119 

the  utmost  I  have  had  to  do  with  the  family  of  late  years 
has  been  paying  the  annuity  granted  them  by  the  late 
earl,  which  I  continued,  not  legally,  but  through  charity, 
on  trust  that  the  present  earl  would  never  call  me  to  ac- 
count for  the  same." 

"  Most  certainly  I  ner/er  shall." 

"  Then  you  will  take  my  advice,  and  forgive  my  in- 
truding upon  you  a  little  more  of  it?" 

u Forgive?  I  am  thankful,  my  good  old  friend,  for 
every  wise  word  you  say  to  me." 

Again  the  good  lawyer  hesitated :  "  There  is  a  subject, 
one  exceedingly  difficult  to  speak  of,  but  it  should  be 
named,  since  you  might  not  think  of  it  yourself.  Lord 
Cairnforth,  the  only  way  in  which  you  can  secure  your 
property  against  these  Braces  is  by  at  once  making  your 
will." 

"  Making  my  will !"  replied  the  earl,  locking  as  if  the 
new  responsibilities  opening  upon  him  were  almost  be- 
wildering. 

"Every  man  who  has  any  thing  to  leave  ought  to 
make  a  will  as  soon  as  ever  he  comes  of  age.  Vainly  I 
urged  this  upon  your  father." 

"  My  poor  father !  That  he  should  die — so  young  and 
strong — and  I  should  live — how  strange  it  seems  i  You 
think,  then— perhaps  Dr.  Hamilton  also  thinks — that  my 
lift;  is  precarious  ?" 

"I  can  not  tell;  my  dear  lord,  how  could  any  man 
possibly  tell  ?" 

"  Well,  it  will  not  make  me  die  one  day  sooner  or  later 
to  have  made  my  will :  as  you  say,  every  man  ought  to 
do  it;  I  ought  especially,  for  my  life  is  more  doubtful 


120  A  Noble  Life. 

than  most  people's ;  and  it  is  a  solemn  charge  to  possess 
so  large  a  fortune  as  mine." 

"  Yes.  The  good — or  harm — that  might  be  done  with 
it  is  incalculable." 

"I  feel  that — at  least  I  am  beginning  to  feel  it" 

And  for  a  time  the  earl  sat  silent  and  thoughtful ;  the 
old  lawyer  fussing  about,  putting  papers  and  debris  of  all 
sorts  into  their  right  places,  but  feeling  it  awkward  to  re- 
sume the  conversation. 

"Mr.  Menteith,  are  you  at  liberty  now?  for  I  have 
quite  made  up  my  mind.  This  matter  of  the  will  shall 
be  settled  at  once.  It  can  be  done  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  Sit  down,  then,  and  I  will  dictate  it.  But  first  you 
must  promise  not  to  interfere  with  any  disposition  I  may 
see  fit  to  make  of  my  property." 

"  I  should  not  have  the  slightest  right  to  do  so,  Lord 
Cairnforth." 

"My  good  old  friend !  Well,  now,  how  shall  we  be- 
gin?" 

"I  should  recommend  your  first  stating  any  legacies 
you  may  wish  to  leave  to  dependents — for  instance,  Mrs. 
Campbell,  or  Malcolm,  and  then  bequeathing  the  whole 
bulk  of  your  estates  to  some  one  person — some  young 
person  likely  to  outlive  you,  and  upon  whom  you  can  de- 
pend to  carry  out  all  your  plans  and  intentions,  and 
make  as  good  a  use  of  your  fortune  as  you  would  have 
done  yourself!  That  is  my  principle  as  to  choice  of  an 
heir.  There  are  many  instances  in  which  blood  is  not 
thicker  than  water,  and  a  friend  by  election  is  often  wor- 
thier and  dearer,  besides  being  closer  than  any  relative." 


A  Noble  life.  121 

"You  are  right." 

"  Still,  consanguinity  must  be  considered  a  little.  You 
might  leave  a  certain  sum  to  these  Braces — or  if,  on  in- 
quiry, you  found  among  them  any  child  whom  you  ap- 
proved, you  could  adopt  him  as  your  heir,  and  he  could 
take  the  name  of  Montgomerie." 

"No,"  replied  the  earl,  decisively,  "that  name  is  end- 
ed. All  I  have  to  consider  is  my  own  people  here — my 
tenants  and  servants.  Whoever  succeeds  me  ought  to 
know  them  all,  and  be  to  them  exactly  what  I  have  been, 
or  rather  what  I  hope  to  be." 

"Mr.  Cardross,  for  instance.  "Were  you  thinking  "of 
him  as  your  heir  ?" 

"No,  not  exactly,"  replied  Lord  Cairnforth,  slightly 
coloring.  "He  is  a  little  too  old.  Besides,  he  is  not 
quite  the  sort  of  person  I  should  wish — too  gentle  and 
self-absorbed — too  little  practical." 

"  One  of  his  sons,  perhaps  ?" 

"  No,  nor  one  of  yours  either ;  to  whom,  by  the  way, 
you  will  please  to  set  down  a  thousand  pounds  apiece. 
Nay,  don't  look  so  horrified;  it  will  not  harm  them. 
But  personally  I  do  not  know  them,  nor  they  me.  And 
my  heir  should  be  some  one  whom  I  thoroughly  do 
know,  thoroughly  respect,  thoroughly  love.  There  is 
but  one  person  in  the  world — one  young  person— who 
answers  to  all  these  requisites." 

"Who  is  that?" 

"  Helen  Cardross." 

Mr.  Menteith  was  a  good  deal  surprised.  Though  he 
had  a  warm  corner  in  his  heart  for  Helen,  still,  the  idea 
of  her  as  heiress  to  so;>  large  an  estate  was  novel  and 

F 


122  A  Noble  Life. 

startling.  He  did  not  consider  himself  justified  in  criti- 
cising the  earl's  choice ;  still,  he  thought  it  odd.  True, 
Helen  was  a  brave,  sensible,  self-dependent  woman — not 
a  girl  any  longer — and  accustomed  from  the  age  of  fifteen 
to  guide  a  household,  to  be  her  father's  right  hand,  and 
her  brothers'  help  and  counselor — one  of  those  rare  char- 
acters who,  without  being  exactly  masculine,  are  yet  not 
too  feebly  feminine — in  whom  strength  is  never  exagger- 
ated to  boldness,  nor  gentleness  deteriorated  into  weak- 
ness. She  was  firm,  too ;  could  form  her  own  opinion 
and  carry  it  out;  though  not  accomplished,  was  fairly 
well  educated ;  possessed 'plenty  of  sound  practical  knowl- 
edge of  men  and  things,  and,  above  all,  had  habits  of  ex- 
treme order  and  regularity.  People  said,  sometimes,  that 
Miss  Cardross  ruled  not  only  the  Manse,  but  the  whole 
parish ;  however,  if  so,  she  did  it  in  so  sweet  a  way  that 
nobody  ever  objected  to  her  government. 

All  these  things  Mr.  Menteith  ran  over  in  his  acute 
mind  within  the  next  few  minutes,  during  which  he  did 
not  commit  himself  to  any  remarks  at  all.  At  last  he 
said, 

"I  think,  my  lord,  you  are  right.  Helen's  no  bonnie, 
but  she  is  a  rare  creature,  with  the  head  of  a  man  and 
the  heart  of  a  woman.  She  is  worth  all  her  brothers  put 
together,  and,  under  the  circumstances,  I  believe  you 
could  not  do  better  than  make  her  your  heiress." 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so,"  was  the  brief  answer. 
Though,  by  the  expression  of  the  earl's  face,  Mr.  Men- 
teith clearly  saw  that,  whether  he  had  thought  it  or  not, 
the  result  would  have  been  just  the  same.  He  smiled  a 
little  to  himself,  but  he  did  not  dispute  the  matter.  lie 


A  Nolk  Life.  123 

knew  that  one  of  the  best  qualities  the  earl  possessed — 
most  blessed  and  useful  to  him,  as  it  is  to  every  human 
being — was  the  power  of  making  up  his  own  mind,  and 
acting  upon  it  with  that  quiet  resolution  which  is  quite 
distinct  from  obstinacy  —  obstinacy,  usually  the  last 
strong-hold  of  cowards,  and  the  blustering  self-defense  of 
fools. 

"  There  is  but  one  objection  to  your  plan,  Lord  Cairn- 
forth.  Miss  Cardross  is  young — twenty -six,  I  think." 

"Twenty-five  and  a  half." 

"  She  may  not  remain  always  Miss  Cardross.  She 
may  marry ;  and  we  can  not  tell  what  sort  of  man  her 
husband  may  be,  or  how  fit  to  be  trusted  with  so  large  a 
property." 

"So  good  a  woman  is  not  likely  to  choose  a  man 
unworthy  of  her,"  said  Lord  Cairnforth,  after  a  pause. 
"  Still,  could  not  my  fortune  be  settled  upon  herself  as  a 
life-rent,  to  descend  intact  to  her  heirs — that  is,  her  chil- 
dren?" 

"My  dear  lord,  how  you  must  have  thought  over 
every  thing !" 

"You  forget,  my  friend,  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
sit  thinking." 

There  was  a  sad  intonation  in  the  voice  which  affected 
Mr.  Menteith  deeply.  He  made  no  remark,  but  busied 
himself  in  drawing  up  the  will,  which  Lord  Cairnforth 
seemed  nervously  anxious  should  be  completed  that  very 
day. 

"  For,  suppose  any  thing  should  happen — if  I  died  this 
night,  for  instance !  No,  let  what  is  done  be  done  as  soon 
as  possible,  and  as  privately." 


124:  A  Noble  Life. 

"  You  wish,  then,  the  matter  to  be  kept  private  ?"  asked 
Mr.  Menteith. 

"Yes." 

So  in  the  course  of  the  next  few  hours  the  will  was 
drawn  up.  It  was  somewhat  voluminous  with  sundry 
small  legacies,  no  one  being  forgotten  whom  the  earl  de- 
sired to  benefit  or  thought  needed  his  help ;  but  the  bulk 
of  his  fortune  he  left  unreservedly  to  Helen  Cardross. 
Malcolm  and  another  servant  were  called  in  as  witnesses, 
and  the  earl  saying  to  them  with  a  cheerful  smile  "  that 
he  was  making  his  will,  but  did  not  mean  to  die  a  day 
the  sooner,"  signed  it  with  that  feeble,  uncertain  signa- 
ture which  yet  had  cost  him  years  of  pains  to  acquire, 
and  never  might  have  been  acquired  at  all  but  for  his 
own  perseverance  and  the  unwearied  patience  of  Helen 
Cardross. 

"She  taught  me  to  write,  you  know,"  said  he  to  Mr. 
Menteith,  as — the  witnesses  being  gone — he,  with  a  half- 
amused  look,  regarded  his  own  autograph. 

"You  have  used  the  results  of  her  teaching  well  on 
her  behalf  to-day.  It  is  no  trifle — a  clear  income  of  ten 
thousand  a  year;  but  she  will  make  a  good  use  of  it." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that.  So,  now,  all  is  safe  and  right,  and 
I  may  die  as  soon  as  God  pleases." 

He  leaned  his  head  back  wearily,  and  his  face  was 
overspread  by  that  melancholy  shadow  which  it  wore  at 
times,  showing  how,  at  best,  life  was  a  heavy  burden,  as 
it  could  not  but  be — to  him. 

"  Come,  now,"  said  the  earl,  rousing  himself,  "  we  have 
still  a  good  many  things  to  talk  over,  which  I  want  to 
consult  you  about  before  you  go,"  whereupon  the  young 


A  Noble  Life.  125 

man  opened  up  such  a  number  of  schemes,  chiefly  for  the 
benefit  of  his  tenantry  and  the  neighborhood,  that  Mr. 
Menteith  was  quite  overwhelmed. 

"  Why,  my  lord,  you  are  the  most  energetic  Earl  of 
Cairnforth  that  ever  came  to  the  title.  It  would  take 
three  lifetimes,  instead  of  a  single  one,  even  if  that 
reached  threescore  and  ten,  to  carry  out  all  you  want 
to  do." 

"  Would  it?  Then  let  us  hope  it  was  not  for  nothing 
that  those  good  folk  yesterday  made  themselves  hoarse 
with  wishing  me  {a  lang  life  and  a  merry  ane.'  And 
when  I  die — but  we'll  not  enter  upon  that  subject.  My 
dear  old  friend,  I  hope  for  many  and  many  a  thirtieth 
of  June  I  shall  make  you  welcome  to  Cairnforth.  And 
now  let  us  take  a  quiet  drive  together,  and  fetch  all  the 
Manse  people  up  to  dinner  at  the  Castle." 


t)it  tfigijtlr. 


THE  same  evening  the  earl  and  his  guests  were  sitting 
in  the  June  twilight  —  the  long,  late  northern  twilight, 
which  is  nowhere  more  lovely  than  on  the  shores  of  Loch 
Beg.  Malcolm  had  just  come  in  with  candles,  as  a  gen- 
tle hint  that  it  was  time  for  his  master,  over  whose  per- 
sonal welfare  he  was  sometimes  a  little  too  solicitous,  to 
retire,  when  there  happened  what  for  the  time  being 
startled  every  body  present. 

Malcolm,  going  to  the  window,  sprang  suddenly  back 
with  a  shout  and  a  scream. 

"  I  kent  it  weel.  It  was  sure  to  be !  Oh,  my  lord,  my 
lord!" 

"What  is  the  matter?"  said  Mr.  Menteith,  sharply. 
"  You're  gone  daft,  man ;"  for  the  big  Highlander  was 
trembling  like  a  child. 

"  Whisht !  dinna  speak  o't.  It  was  my  lord's  wraith, 
ye  ken.  It  just  keekit  in  and  slippit  awa." 

"  Folly !     I  saw  nothing.", 

"But  I  think  I  did,"  said  Lord  Cairnforth. 

"  Hear  him !  Ay,  he  saw  't  his  ain  sel.  Then  it  maun 
be  true.  Oh  my  dear  lord !" 

Poor  Malcolm  fell  on  his  knees  by  the  earl's  little  chair 
in  such  agitation  that  Mr.  Cardross  looked  up  from  his 
book,  and  Helen  from  her  peaceful  needle- work,  which 
was  rarely  out  of  her  active  hands. 

F2 


130  A  Noble  Life. 

"He -thinks  he  has  seen  his  master's  wraith;  and  be- 
cause the  earl  signed  his  will  this  morning,  he  is  sure  to 
die,  especially  as  Lord  Cairnforth  saw  the  same  thing 
himself.  Will  you  say,  my  lord,  what  you  did  see?" 

"  Mr.  Menteith,  I  believe  I  saw  a  man  peering  in  at 
that  window." 

"  It  wasna  a  man — it  was  a  speerit,"  moaned  Malcolm. 
"  My  lord's  wraith,  for  sure." 

"I  don't  think  so,  Malcolm ;  for  it  was  a  tall,  thin  fig- 
ure, that  moved  about  lightly  and  airily — was  come  and 
gone  in  a  moment.  Not  very  like  my  wraith,  unless  the 
wraith  of  myself  as  I  might  have  been." 

The  little  party  were  silent  till  Helen  said, 

"  What  do  you  think  it  was,  then?" 

"  Certainly  a  man,  made  of  honest  flesh  and  blood, 
though  not  much  of  either,  for  he  was  excessively  thin 
and  sickly-looking.  He  just  'keekit  in,'  as  Malcolm 
says,  and  disappeared." 

"  What  a  very  odd  circumstance !"  said  Mr.  Menteith. 
"  Not  a  robber,  I  trust.  I  am  much  more  afraid  of  rob- 
bers than  of  ghosts." 

"  We  never  rob  at  Cairnforth ;  we  are  very  honest 
people  here.  No,  I  think  it  is  far  likelier  to  be  one  of 
those  stray  tourists  who  are  brought  here  by  the  steam- 
ers. They  sometimes  take  great  liberties,  wandering  into 
the  Castle  grounds,  and  perhaps  one  of  them  thought  he 
might  as  well  come  and  stare  in  at  my  windows." 

"  I  hope  he  was  English ;  I  should  not  like  a  Scotsman 
to  do  such  a  rude  thing,"  cried  Helen,  indignantly. 

Lord  Cairnforth  laughed  at  her  impulsiveness.  There 
was  much  of  the  child  nature  mingled  in  Helen's  gravity 


A  Noble  Life.  131 

and  wisdom,  and  she  sometimes  did  both  speak  and  act 
from  impulse — especially  generous  and  kindly  impulse — 
as  hastily  and  unthinkingly  as  a  child. 

"  Well,  Malcolm,  the  only  way  to  settle  this  difficulty 
is  to  search  the  house  and  grounds.  Take  a  good  thick 
stick  and  a  lantern,  and  whatever  you  find — be  it  tourist 
or  burglar,  man  or  spirit — bring  him  at  once  to  me." 

And  then  the  little  group  waited,  laughing  among 
themselves,  but  still  not  quite  at  ease.  Lord  Cairnforth 
would  not  allow  Mr.  Cardross  and  Helen  to  walk  home ; 
the  carriage  was  ordered  to  be  made  ready. 

Presently  Malcolm  appeared,  somewhat  crestfallen. 

"  It  is  a  man,  my  lord,  and  no  speerit.  But  he  wadna 
come  ben.  He  says  he'll  wait  your  lordship's  will,  and 
that's  his  name,"  laying  a  card  before  the  earl,  who  looked 
at  it  and  started  with  surprise. 

"  Mr.  Menteith,  just  see — c  Captain  Ernest  Henry  Bruce.7 
What  an  odd  coincidence!" 

"  Coincidence  indeed !"  repeated  the  lawyer,  skeptical- 
ly. "  Let  me  see  the  card." 

"  Ernest  Henry !  was  that  the  name  of  the  young  man 
whom  you  sent  out  to  India?" 

"  How  should  I  remember  ?  It  was  ten  or  fifteen  years 
ago.  Very  annoying !  However,  since  he  is  a  Bruce,  or 
says  he  is,  I  suppose  your  lordship  must  just  see  him." 

"  Certainly,"  replied,  in  his  quiet,  determined  tone,  the 
Earl  of  Cairnforth. 

Helen,  who  looked  exceedingly  surprised,  offered  to 
retire,  but  the  earl  would  not  hear  of  it. 

"  No,  no ;  you  are  a  wise  woman,  and  an  acute  one  too. 
1  would  like  you  to  see  and  judge  of  this  cousin  of  mine 


132  A  Noble  Life. 

—  a  faraway  cousin,  who  would  like  well  enough,  Mr. 
Menteith  guesses,  to  be  my  heir.  But  we  will  not  judge 
him.  harshly,  and  especially  we  will  not  prejudge  him. 
His  father  was  nothing  to  boast  of,  but  this  may  be  a 
very  honest  man  for  all  we  know.  Sit  by  me,  Helen, 
and  take  a  good  look  at  him." 

And,  with  a  certain  amused  pleasure,  the  earl  watched 
Helen's  puzzled  air  at  being  made  of  so  much  import- 
ance, till  the  stranger  appeared. 

He  was  a  man  of  about  thirty,  though  at  first  sight  he 
seemed  older,  from  his  exceedingly  worn  and  sickly  ap- 
pearance. His  lank  black  hair  fell  about  his  thin,  sallow 
face;  he  wore  what  we  now  call  the  Byron  collar  and 
Byron  tie — for  it  was  in  the  Byron  era,  when  sentiment- 
alism  and  misery -making  were  all  the  fashion.  Certain- 
ly the  poor  captain  looked  miserable  enough,  without  any 
pretense  of  it ;  for,  besides  his  thin  and  unhealthy  aspect, 
his  attire  was  in  the  lowest  depth  of  genteel  shabbiness. 
Nevertheless,  he  looked  gentlemanly,  and  clever  too ;  nor 
was  it  an  unpleasant  face,  though  the  lower  half  of  it  indi- 
cated weakness  and  indecision ;  and  the  eyes — large,  dark, 
and  hollow — were  a  little  too  closely  set  together,  a  pecul- 
iarity which  always  gives  an  uncandid,  and  often  a  rath- 
er sinister  expression  to  any  face.  Still,  there  was  some- 
thing about  the  unexpected  visitor  decidedly  interesting. 

Even  Helen  looked  up  from  her  work  once — twice — 
with  no  small  curiosity ;  she  saw  so  few  strangers,  and 
of  men,  and  young  men,  almost  none,  from  year's  end  to 
year's  end.  Yet  it  was  a  look  as  frank,  as  unconscious, 
as  maidenly  as  might  have  been  Miranda's  first  glance  at 
Ferdinand. 


A  Noble  Life.  133 

Captain  Bruce  did  not  return  her  glance  at  all.  His 
whole  attention  was  engrossed  by  Lord  Cairnforth. 

"  My  lord,  I  am  so  sorry — so  very  sorry — if  I  startled 
you  by  my  rudeness.  The  group  inside  was  so  cheering 
a  sight,  and  I  was  a  poor  weary  wayfarer." 

"Do  not  apologize,  Captain  Bruce.  I  am  happy  to 
make  your  acquaintance." 

11  It  has  been  the  wish  of  my  life,  Lord  Cairnforth,  to 
make  yours." 

Lord  Cairnforth  turned  upon  him  eyes  sharp  enough 
to  make  a  less  acute  person  than  the  captain  feel  that 
honesty,  rather  than  flattery,  was  the  safest  tack  to  go 
upon.  He  took  the  hint. 

"  That  is,  I  have  wished,  ever  since  I  came  home  from 
India,  to  thank  you  and  Mr.  Menteith — this  is  Mr.  Men- 
teith,  I  presume  ? — for  my  cadetship,  which  I  got  through 
you.  And  though  my  ill  health  has  blighted  my  pros- 
pects, and  after  some  service — for  I  exchanged  from  the 
Company's  civil  into  the  military  service — I  have  re- 
turned to  England  an  invalided  and  disappointed  man, 
still  my  gratitude  is  exactly  the  same,  and  I  was  anxious 
to  see  and  thank  you,  as  my  benefactor  and  my  cousin." 

Lord  Cairnforth  merely  bent  his  head  in  answer  to  this 
long  speech,  which  a  little  perplexed  him.  He,  like 
Helen,  was  both  unused  and  indifferent  to  strangers. 

But  Captain  Bruce  seemed  determined  not  to  be  made 
a  stranger.  After  the  brief  ceremony  of  introduction  to 
the  little  party,  he  sat  down  close  to  Lord  Cairnforth,  dis- 
placing Helen,  who  quietly  retired,  and  began  to  unfold 
all  his  circumstances,  giving  as  credentials  of  identity  a 
medal  received  for  some  Indian  battle ;  a  letter  from  his 


134  A  Nolle  Life. 

father,  the  colonel,  whose  handwriting  Mr,  Menteith  im- 
mediately recognized,  and  other  data,  which  sufficiently 
proved  that  he  really  was  the  person  he  assumed  to  be. 

"  For,"  said  he,  with  that  exceedingly  frank  manner  he 
had,  the  sort  of  manner  particularly  taking  with  reserved 
people,  because  it  saves  them  so  much  trouble — "for 
otherwise  how  should  you  know  that  I  am  not  an  im- 
postor— a  swindler — instead  of  your  cousin,  which  I  hope 
you  believe  I  really  am,  Lord  Cairnforth  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  earl,  smiling,  and  looking  both 
amused  and  interested  by  this  little  adventure,  so  novel 
in  his  monotonous  life. 

Also,  his  kindly  heart  was  touched  by  the  sickly  and 
feeble  aspect  of  the  young  man,  by  his  appearance  of 
poverty,  and  by  something  in  his  air  which  the  earl  fan- 
cied implied  that  brave  struggle  against  misfortune,  more 
pathetic  than  misfortune  itself.  With  undisguised  pleas- 
ure, the  young  host  sat  and  watched  his  guest  doing  full 
justice  to  the  very  best  supper  that  the  Castle  could  fur- 
nish. 

"  You  are  truly  a  good  Samaritan,"  said  Captain  Bruce, 
pouring  out  freely  the  claret  which  was  then  the  uni- 
versal drink  of  even  the  middle  classes  in  Scotland.  "I 
had  fallen  among  thieves  (literally,  for  my  small  baggage 
was  stolen  from  me  yesterday,  and  I  have  no  worldly 
goods  beyond  the  clothes  I  stand  in);  you  meet  me,  my 
good  cousin,  with  oil  and  wine,  and  set  me  on  your  own 
beast,  which  I  fear  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  do,  for  I  am 
not  strong  enough  to  walk  any  distance.  How  far  is  it 
to  the  nearest  inn  ?" 

"  About  twenty  miles.     But  we  will  discuss  that  ques- 


A  Noble  Life.  1.35 

tion  presently.     In  the  mean  time,  eat  and  drink ;  you 
need  it.'' 

"  All!  yes.  You  have  never  known  hunger — I  hope 
you  never  may ;  but  it  is  not  a  pleasant  thing,  I  assure 
you,  actually  to  want  food." 

Helen  looked  up  sympathetically,  As  Captain  Bruce 
took  not  the  slightest  notice  of  her,  she  had  ample  oppor- 
tunity to  observe  him.  Pity  for  his  worn  face  made  her 
lenient.  Lord  Cairnforth  read  her  favorable  judgment 
in  her  eyes,  and  it  inclined  him  also  to  judge  kindly  of 
the  stranger.  Mr.  Menteith  alone,  more  familiar  with  the 
world,  and  goaded  by  it  into  that  sharp  suspiciousness 
which  is  the  last  hardening  of  a  kindly  and  generous  i 
heart — Mr.  Menteith  held  aloof  for  some  time,  till  at  last 
even  he  succumbed  to  the  charm  of  the  captain's  con- 
versation. Mr.  Cardross  had  already  fallen  a  willing  vic- 
tim, for  he  had  latterly  been  deep  in  the  subject,  of  War- 
ren Hastings,  and  to  meet  with  any  one  who  came  direct 
from  that  wondrous  land  of  India,  then  as  mysterious 
and  far-away  a  region  as  the  next  world,  to  people  in 
England,  and  especially  in  the  wilds  of  Scotland,  was  lo 
the  good  minister  a  delight  indescribable. 

Captain  Bruce,  who  had  at  first  paid  little  attention  to 
any  body  but  his  cousin,  soon  exercised  his  faculty  of  be- 
ing "  all  things  to  all  men,"  gave  out  his  stores  of  informa- 
tion, bent  all  his  varied  powers  to  gratify  Lord  Cairn- 
forth's  friends,  and  succeeded. 

The  clock  had  struck  twelve,  and  still  the  little  party 
were  gathered  round  the  supper-table.  Captain  Bruce 
rose. 

"  I  am  ashamed  to  have  detained  you  from  your  natu- 


136  A  Noble  Life. 

ral  rest,  Lord  Cairnfortk  I  am  but  a  poor  sleeper  my- 
self; my  cough  often  disturbs  me  much.  Perhaps,  as 
there  is  no  inn,  one  of  your  servants  could  direct  me  to 
some  cottage  near,  where  I  could  get  a  night's  lodging, 
and  go  on  my  way  to-morrow.  Any  humble  place  will 
do ;  I  am  accustomed  to  rough  it ;  besides,  it  suits  my 
finances :  half-pay  to  a  sickly  invalid  is  hard  enough — 
you  understand  ?" 

"I  do." 

"  Still,  if  I  could  only  get  health !  I  have  been  told 
that  this  part  of  the  country  is  very  favorable  to  people 
with  delicate  lungs.  Perhaps  I  might  meet  with  some 
farm-house  lodging  ?" 

"I  could  not  possibly  allow  that,"  said  Lord  Cairn- 
forth,  unable,  in  spite  of  all  Mr.  Menteith's  grave  warning 
looks,  to  shut  up  his  warm  heart  any  longer.  "The 
Castle  is  your  home,  Captain  Bruce,  for  as  long  as  you 
may  find  it  pleasant  to  remain  here." 

The  invitation,  given  so  unexpectedly  and  cordially, 
seemed  to  surprise,  nay,  to  touch  the  young  man  ex- 
ceedingly. 

"  Thank  you,  my  cousin.     You  are  very  kind  to  me, 
which  is  more  than  I  can  say  of  the  world  in  general.     I 
will  thankfully  stay  with  you  for  a  little.     It  might  give' 
me  a  chance  of  health." 

"  I  trust  so." 

Still,  to  make  all  clear  between  host  and  guest,  let  me 
name  some  end  to  my  visit.  This  is  the  first  day  of 
July ;  may  I  accept  your  hospitality  for  a  fortnight — say 
till  the  15th?" 

"  Till  whenever  you  please,"  replied  the  earl,  courte- 


A  Nolle  Life. 


ously  and  warmly ;  for  he  was  pleased  to  find  his  cousin, 
even  though  a  Bruce,  so  very  agreeable ;  glad,  too,  that 
he  had  it  in  his  power  to  do  him  a  kindness,  which,  per- 
haps, had  too  long  been  neglected.  Besides,  Lord  Cairn-  \ 
forth  had  few  friends,  and  youth  so  longs  for  companion- 
ship. This  was  actually  the  first  time  he  had  had  a 
chance  of  forming  an  intimacy  with  a  young  man  of  his 
own  age,  education,  and  position,  and  he  caught  at  it  with 
avidity,  the  more  so  because  Captain  Bruce  seemed  likely 
to  supply  all  the  things  which  he  had  not  and  never 
could  have  —  knowledge  of  the  world  outside;  "hair- 
breadth 'scapes"  and  adventurous  experiences,  told  with 
a  point  and  cleverness  that  added  to  their  charm. 

Besides,  the  captain  was  decidedly  "interesting." 
Young  ladies  would  have  thought  him  so,  with  his  pale 
face  and  pensive  air,  which,  seeing  that  the  Byron  fever 
had  not  yet  attacked  the  youths  of  Cairnforth,  appeared 
to  his  simple  audience  a  melancholy  quite  natural  and 
not  assumed.  And  his  delicacy  of  health  was  a  fact  only 
too  patent.  There  was  a  hectic  brilliant  color  on  his 
cheek,  and  his  cough  interrupted  him  continually.  His 
whole  appearance  implied  that,  in  any  case,  a  long  life 
was  scarcely  probable,  and  this  alone  was  enough  to 
soften  any  tender  heart  toward  him. 

"  "What  does  Helen  think  of  my  new  cousin  ?"  whis- 
pered Lord  Cairnforth,  looking  up  to  her  with  his  affec- 
tionate eyes,  as  she  bent  over  his  chair  to  bid  him  good- 
night. 

"  I  like  him,"  was  the  frank  answer.  "  He  is  very 
agreeable,  and  then  he  looks  so  ill." 

"  Was  I  right  in  asking  him  to  stay  here  ?" 


138  A  Noble  Life., 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.  He  is  your  nearest  relation,  and,  as 
the  proverb  says,  { Bluid  is  thicker  than  water.' " 

"Not  always." 

"But  now  you  will  soon  be  able  to  judge  how  you 
like  him,  and  if  you  do  like  him,  I  hope  you  will  be  very 
kind  to  him." 

"  Do  you,  Helen  ?     Then  I  certainly  will." 

The  earl  kept  his  word.  Many  weeks  went  by ;  the 
15th  of  July  was  long  past,  and  still  Captain  Bruce  re- 
mained a  guest  at  the  Castle — quite  domesticated,  for  he 
soon  made  himself  as  much  at  home  as  if  he  had  dwelt 
there  all  his  days.  He  fluctuated  a  little  between  the 
Castle  and  the  Manse,  but  soon  decided  that  the  latter 
was  "rather  a  dull  house" — the  boys  rough — the  minis- 
ter too  much  of  a  student — and  Miss  Cardross  "  a  very 
good  sort  of  girl,  but  certainly  no  beauty,"  which  dictum, 
delivered  in  an  oracular  manner,  as  from  one  well  accus- 
tomed to  criticise  the  sex,  always  amused  the  earl  ex- 
ceedingly. 

To  Lord  Cairnforth,  his  new-found  cousin  devoted  hinv 
self  in  the  most  cousinly  way.  Tender,  respectful,  unob- 
trusive, bestowing  on  him  enough,  and  not  too  much  of 
his  society ;  never  interfering,  and  yet  always  at  hand 
with  any  assistance  required :  he  was  exactly  the  com- 
panion which  the  earl  needed,  and  liked  constantly  be- 
side him.  For,  of  course,  Malcolm,  fond  and  faithful  as 
he  was,  was  only  a  servant ;  a  friend,  who  was  also  a  gen- 
tleman, yet  who  did  not  seem  to  feel  or  dislike  the  many 
small  cares  and  attentions  which  were  necessities  to  Lord 
Cairnforth,  was  quite  a  different  thing.  It  was  a  touch- 
ing contrast  to  see  the  two  together;  the  active,  elegant 


A  Nolle  Life.  139 

young  man — for,  now  he  was  well-dressed,  Captain  Braco 
looked  remarkably  elegant  and  gentlemanly,  and  the  lit- 
tle motionless  figure,  as  impassive  and  helpless  almost  as 
an  image  carved  in  stone,  but  yet  who  was  undoubtedly 
the  Earl  of  Cairnforth,  and  sole  master  of  Cairnforth 
Castle. 

Perhaps  the  wisest  hit  of  the  captain's  proceedings  was 
the  tact  with  which  he  always  recognized  this  fact,  and 
paid  his  cousin  that  respect  and  deference,  and  that  tacit 
acknowledgment  of  his  rights  of  manhood  and  govern- 
ment which  could  not  but  be  soothing  and  pleasant  to 
one  so  afflicted.  Or  perhaps — let  us  give  the  kindest  in- 
terpretation possible  to  all  things — the  earl's  helplessness 
and  loveableness  touched  a  chord  long  silent,  or  never 
stirred  before  in  the  heart  of  the  man  of  the  world.  Pos- 
sibly— who  can  say  ? — he  really  began  to  like  him. 

At  any  rate,  he  seemed  as  if  he  did,  and  Lord  Cairn- 
forth gave  back  to  him  in  double  measure  all  that  he  be- 
stowed. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  all  the  captain's  pecuniary  needs 
were  at  once  supplied.  His  threadbare  clothes  became 
mysteriously  changed  into  a  wardrobe  supplied  with 
every  thing  that  a  gentleman  could  desire,  and  a  rather 
luxurious  gentleman  too;  which,  owing  to  his  Indian 
habits  and  his  delicate  health,  the  young  captain  turned 
out  to  be.  At  first  he  resisted  all  this  kindness ;  but  all 
remonstrances  being  soon  overcome,  he  took  his  luxu- 
ries quite  naturally,  and  evidently  enjoyed  them,  though 
scarcely  so  much  as  the  earl  himself. 

To  that  warm  heart,  which  had  never  had  half  enough 
of  ties  whereon  to  expend  itself  and  its  wealth  of  gcncr- 


140  A  Nolle  Life. 

osity,  it  was  perfectly  delicious  to  see  the  sick  soldier 
daily  gaining  health  by  riding  the  Cairnforth  horses, 
shooting  over  the  moors,  or  fishing  in  the  lochs.  Never 
had  the  earl  so  keenly  enjoyed  his  own  wealth,  and  the 
blessings  it  enabled  him  to  lavish  abroad ;  never  in  his 
lifetime  had  he  looked  so  thoroughly  contented. 

"  Helen,"  he  said  one  day,  when  she  had  come  up  for 
an  hour  or  two  to  the  Castle,  and  then,  as  usual,  Captain 
Bruce  had  taken  the  opportunity  of  riding  out — he  own- 
ed he  found  Miss  Cardross's  company  and  conversation 
"slow" — "Helen,  that  young  man  looks  stronger  and 
better  every  day.  What  a  bright-looking  fellow  he  is ! 
It  does  one  good  to  see  him."  And  the  earl  followed 
with  his  eyes  the  graceful  steed  and  equally  graceful 
rider,  caracoling  in  front  of  the  Castle  windows. 

Helen  said  nothing. 

"I  think,"  he  continued,  "that  the  next  best  thing  to 
being  happy  one's  self  is  to  be  able  to  make  other  people 
so.  Perhaps  that  may  be  the  sort  of  happiness  they  have 
in  the  next  world.  I  often  speculate  about  it,  and  won- 
der what  sort  of  creature  I  shall  find  myself  there. 
But,"  added  he,  abruptly,  "  now  to  business.  You  will 
be  my  secretary  this  morning  instead  of  Bruce  ?" 

"Willingly;"  for,  though  she  too,  like  Malcolm,  had 
been  a  little  displaced  by  this  charming  cousin,  there  was 
not  an  atom  of  jealousy  in  her  nature.  Hers  was  that 
pure  and  unselfish  affection  which  could  bear  to  stand  by 
and  see  those  she  loved  made  happy,  even  though  it  was 
by  another  than  herself. 

She  fell  to  work  in  her  old  way,  and  the  earl  employed 
as  much  as  he  required  her  ready  handwriting,  her  clear 


A  Noble  Life.  141 

head,  and  her  full  acquaintance  with  every  body  and  ev- 
ery thing  in  the  district ;  for  Helen  was  a  real  minister's 
daughter — as  popular  and  as  necessary  in  the  parish  as 
the  minister  himself;  and  she  was  equally  important  at 
the  Castle,  where  she  was  consulted,  as  this  morning,  on 
every  thing  Lord  Cairnforth  was  about  to  do,  and  on  the 
wisest  way  of  expending — he  did  not  wish  to  save — the 
large  yearly  income  which  he  now  seemed  really  begin- 
ning to  enjoy. 

Helen,  too,  after  a  long  morning's  work,  drew  her 
breath  with  a  sigh  of  pleasure. 

"What  a  grand  thing  it  is  to  be  as  rich  as  you  are !" 

"  Why  so?" 

"One  can  do  such  a  deal  of  good  with  plenty  of 
money." 

"  Yes.  Should  you  like  to  be  very  rich,  Helen  ?" 
watching  her  with  an  amused  look. 

Helen  shook  her  head  and  laughed.  "  Oh,  it's  no  use 
asking  me  the  question,  for  I  shall  never  have  the  chance 
of  being  rich." 

"  You  can  not  say  ;  you  might  marry,  for  instance." 

"That  is  not  likely.  Papa  could  never  do  without 
me;  besides,  as  the  folk  say,  I'm  'no  bonnie,  ye  ken.' 
But,"  speaking  more  seriously,  "indeed,  I  never  think  of 
marrying.  If  it  is  to  be  it  will  be ;  if  not,  I  am  quite 
happy  as  I  am.  And  for  money,  can  I  not  always  come 
to  you  whenever  I  want  it  ?  You  supply  me  endlessly 
for  my  poor  people.  And,  as  Captain  Bruce  was  saying 
to  papa  the  other  night,  you  are  a  perfect  mine  of  gold— 
and  of  generosity." 

"Helen,"  Lord  Cairnforth  said,  after  he  had  sat  think- 


U2  A  Noble  Life. 

ing  a  while,  "I  wanted  to  consult  you  about  Captain 
Bruce.  How  do  you  like  him?  That  is,  do  you  still 
continue  to  like  him,  for  I  know  you  did  at  first?" 

"  And  I  do  still.  I  feel  so  very  sorry  for  him." 
-  "Only,  my  dear" — Lord  Cairnforth  sometimes  called 
her  "my  dear,"  and  spoke  to  her  with  a  tender,  superior 
wisdom — "  one's  link  to  one's  friends  ought  to  be  a  little 
stronger  than  being  sorry  for  them ;  one  ought  to  respect 
them.  One  must  respect  them  before  one  can  trust  them 
very  much — with  one's  property,  for  instance." 

"  Do  you  mean,"  said  straightforward  Helen,  "  that  you 
have  any  thoughts  of  making  Captain  Bruce  your  heir?" 

"]STo,  certainly  not;  but  I  have  grave  doubts  whether 
I  ought  not  to  remember  him  in  my  will,  only  I  wished 
to  see  his  health  re-established  first,  since,  had  he  contin- 
ued as  delicate  as  when  he  came,  he  might  not  even  have 
outlived  me." 

"  How  calmly  you  talk  of  all  this,"  said  Helen,  with  a 
little  shiver.  She,  full  of  life  and  health,  could  hardly 
realize  the  feeling  of  one  who  stood  always  on  the  brink 
of  another  world,  and  .looking  to  that  world  only  for  real 
health — real  life. 

"I  think  of  it  calmly,  and  therefore  speak  calmly. 
But,  dear  Helen,  I  will  not  grieve  you  to-day.  There  is 
plenty  of  time,  and  all  is  safe,  whatever  happens.  I  can 
trust  my  successor  to  do  rightly.  As  for  my  cousin,  I 
will  try  him  a  little  longer,  lest  he  prove 

"  'A  little  more  than  kin,  and  less  than  kind.' " 

11  There  seems  no  likelihood  of  that.  He  always  speaks 
in  the  warmest  manner  of  you  whenever  he  comes  to  tho 


A  Noble  Life.  143 

Manse ;  that  is  what  makes  me  like  him,  I  fancy ;  'and 
also,  because  I  would  always  believe  the  best  of  people 
until  I  found  out  to  the  contrary.  Life  would  not  be 
worth  having  if  we  were  continually  suspecting  every 
body — believing  every  body  bad  till  we  had  found  them 
out  to  be  good.  If  so,  with  many,  I  fear  we  should  never 
find  the  good  out  at  all.  That  is — I  can't  put  it  cleverly, 
like  you,  but  I  know  what  I  mean." 

Lord  Cairnforth  smiled.  "So  do  I,  Helen,  which  is 
quite  enough  for  us  two.  "We  will  talk  this  over  some 
other  time ;  and  meanwhile" — he  looked  at  her  earnestly 
and  spoke  with  meaning — "if  ever  you  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  being  kind  to  Captain  Bruce,  remember  he  is 
my  next  of  kin,  and  I  wish  it." 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Helen.  "  But  I  am  never  like- 
ly to  have  the  chance  of  doing  any  kindness  to  such  a 
very  fine  gentleman." 

Lord  Cairnforth  smiled  to  himself  once  more,  and  let 
the  conversation  end ;  afterward — long  afterward,  he  re- 
called it,  and  thought  with  a  strange  comfort  that  then, 
at  least,  there  was  nothing  to  conceal ;  nothing  but  sin- 
cerity in  the  sweet,  honest  face — not  pretty,  but  so  per- 
fectly candid  and  true — with  the  sun  shining  on  the  lint- 
white  hair,  and  the  bright  blue  eyes  meeting  his,  guileless 
as  a  child's.  Ay,  and  however  they  were  dimmed  with 
care  and  washed  with  tears — oceans  of  bitterness — that 
innocent,  childlike  look  never,  even  when  she  was  an  old 
woman,  quite  faded  out  of  Helen's  eyes. 

"  Ay,"  Lord  Cairnforth  said  to  himself,  when  she  had 
gone  away,  and  he  was  left  alone  in  that  helpless  solitude 
which,  being  the  inevitable  necessity,  had  grown  into  the 


144:  A  Noble  Life. 

familiar  habit  of  his  life,  "  ay,  it  is  all  right.  No  harr 
could  come  —  there  would  be  nothing  neglected — eve 
were  I  to  die  to-morrow." 

That  "  dying  to-morrow,"  which  might  happen  to  an 
one  of  us,  how  few  really  recognize  it  and  prepare  for  il 
Not  in  the  ordinary  religious  sense  of  "  preparation  fc 
death" — often  a  most  irreligious  thing — a  frantic  attemj 
of  sinning  and  terror-stricken  humanity  to  strike  a  ba 
ance-sheet  with  heaven,  just  leaving  a  sufficient  portio 
on  the  credit  side — but  preparation  in  the  ordinary  worlc 
ly  meaning — keeping  one's  affairs  straight  and  clear,  thz 
no  one  may  be  perplexed  therewith  afterward ;  forgivin 
and  asking  forgiveness  of  offenses ;  removing  evil  don< 
and  delaying  not  for  a  day  any  good  that  it  is  possibl 
to  do. 

It  was  a  strange  thing;  but,  as  after  his  death  it  wa 
discovered,  the  true  secret  of  the  wonderful  calmness  an 
sweetness  which,  year  by  year,  deepened  more  and  mor 
in  Lord  Cairnforth's  character,  ripening  it  to  a  perfectnes 
in  which  those  who  only  saw  the  outside  of  his  couL 
hardly  believe,  consisted  in  this  ever- abiding  though t- 
that  he  might  die  to-morrow.  Existence  was  to  him  sue! 
a  mere  twilight,  dim,  imperfect,  and  sad,  that  he  neve 
rested  in  it,  but  lived  every  day,  as  it  were,  in  the  pros 
pect  of  the  eternal  dawn. 


Jraijr. 


G 


Tins  summer,  which,  as  it  glided  away,  Lord  Cairn- 
forth  often  declared  to  be  the  happiest  of  his  life,  ended 
by  bringing  him  the  first  heavy  affliction — external  afflic- 
tion— which  his  life  had  ever  known. 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  the  late-earned  rest  of  a  very 
toilsome  career,  died  Mr.  Menteith,  the  earl's  long-faithful 
friend,  who  had  been  almost  as  good  to  him  as  a  father. 
He  felt  it  sorely ;  the  more  so,  because,  though  his  own 
frail  life  seemed  always  under  the  imminent  shadow  of 
death,  death  had  never  touched  him  before  as  regarded 
other  people.  He  had  lived,  as  we  all  unconsciously  do, 
till  the  great  enemy  smites  us,  feeling  as  if,  whatever 
might  be  the  case  with  himself,  those  whom  he  loved 
could  never  die.  This  grief  was  something  quite  new  to 
him,  and  it  struck  him  hard. 

The  tidings  came  on  a  gloomy  day  in  late  October,  the 
season  when  Cairnforth  is  least  beautiful ;  for  the  thick 
woods  about  it  make  the  always  damp  atmosphere  heavy 
with  "  the  moist,  rich  smell  of  the  rotting  leaves,"  and  the 
roads  lying  deep  in  mud,  and  the  low  shore  hung  with 
constant  mists,  give  a  general  impression  of  dreariness. 
The  far-away  hills  vanish  entirely  for  days  together,  and 
the  loch  itself  takes  a  leaden  hue,  as  if  it  never  could  be 
blue  again.  You  can  hardly  believe  that  the  sun  will 


148  A  Noble  Life. 

ever  again  shine  out  upon  it  j  the  white  waves  rise,  the 
mountains  reappear,  and  the  whole  scene  grows  clear  and 
lovely,  as  life  does  sometimes  if  we  have  only  patience  to 
endure  through  the  weary  winter  until  spring. 

But  for  the  good  man,  John  Menteith,  his  springs  and 
winters  were  alike  ended :  he  was  gathered  to  his  fathers, 
and  his  late  ward  mourned  him  bitterly. 

Mr.  Cardross  and  Helen,  coming  up  to  the  Castle  as 
soon  as  the  news  reached  them,  found  Lord  Cairnforth 
in  a  state  of  depression  such  as  they  had  never  before 
witnessed  in  him.  One  of  the  things  which  seemed  to 
affect  him  most  painfully,  as  small  things  sometimes  do 
in  the  midst  of  deepest  grief,  was  that  he  could  not  at- 
tend Mr.  Menteith's  funeral. 

"  Every  other  man,"  said  he,  sadly,  "  every  other  man 
can  follow  his  dear  friends  and  kindred  to  the  grave,  can 
give  them  respect  in  death  as  he  has  given  them  love  and 
help  during  life — I  can  do  neither.  I  can  help  no  one — 
be  of  use  to  no  one.  I  am  a  mere  cumberer  of  the  ground. 
It  would  be  better  if  I  were  away." 

"  Hush !  do  not  dare  to  say  that,"  answered  Mr.  Card- 
ross. And  he  sent  the  rest  away,  even  Helen,  and  sat 
down  beside  his  old  pupil,  not  merely  as  a  friend,  but  as 
a  minister — in  the  deepest  meaning  of  the  word,  even  as 
it  was  first  used  of  Him  who  "  came  not  to  be  ministered 
unto,  but  to  minister." 

Helen's  father  was  not  a  demonstrative  man  under  or- 
dinary circumstances ;  he  was  too  much  absorbed  in  his 
books,  and  in  a  sort  of  languid  indifference  to  worldly 
matters,  which  had  long  hung  over  him,  more  or  less, 
ever  since  his  wife's  death ;  but,  when  occasion  arose,  he 


A  Noble  Life.  149 

could  rise  equal  to  it;  and  he  was  one  of  those  comforters 
who  knew  the  way  through  the  valley  of  affliction  by 
the  marks  which  their  own  feet  have  trod. 

He  and  the  earl  spent  a  whole  hour  alone  together. 
Afterward,  when  sorrow,  compared  to  which  the  present 
grief  was  calm  and  sacred,  fell  upon  them  both,  they  re- 
membered this  day,  and  were  not  afraid  to  open  their 
wounded  hearts  to  one  another.' 

At  last  Mr.  Cardross  came  out  of  the  library,  and  told 
Helen  that  Lord  Cairnforth  wanted  to  speak  to  her. 

"He  wishes  to  have  your  opinion,  as  well  as  rny  own, 
about  a  journey  he  is  projecting  to  Edinburg,  and  some 
business  matters  which  he  desires  to  arrange  there.  I 
think  he  would  have  liked  to  see  Captain  Bruce  too. 
\Vhereishe?" 

The  captain  had  found  this  atmosphere  of  sorrow  a 
little  too  overpowering,  and  had  disappeared  for  a  long 
ride ;  so  Miss  Cardross  had  been  sitting  alone  all  the 
time. 

"Your  father  has  been  persuading  me,  Helen,"  said 
the  earl,  when  she  came  in,  "that  I  am  not  quite  so  use- 
less in  the  world  as  I  imagined.  He  says  he  has  reason 
to  believe,  from  things  Mr.  Menteith  let  fall,  that  my  dear 
old  friend's  widow  is  not  very  well  provided  for,  and  she 
and  her  children  will  have  a  hard  battle  even  now.  Mr. 
Cardross  thinks  I  can  help  her  very  materially,  in  one 
way  especially.  You  know  I  have  made  my  will  ?" 

"Yes,"  replied  unconscious  Helen,  " you  told  me  so." 

"  Mr.  Menteith  drew  it  up  the  last  time  he  was  here. 
How  little  we  thought  it  would  be  really  the  last  time ! 
Ah !  Helen,  if  we  could  only  look  forward  1" 


150  A  Nobk  Life. 

11  It  is  best  not,"  said  Helen,  earnestly. 

"Well,  my  will  is  made.  And  though  in  it  I  left 
nothing  to  Mr.  Menteith  himself,  seeing  that  such  a  re- 
turn of  his  kindness  would  be  very  unwelcome,  I  insisted 
on  doing  what  was  equivalent — bequeathing  a  thousand 
pounds  to  each  of  his  children.  Was  I  right  in  that? 
You  do  not  object  ?" 

"  Most  assuredly  not,"  answered  Helen,  though  a  little 
surprised  at  the  question.  Still,  she  was  so  long  accus- 
tomed to  be  consulted  by  the  earl,  and  to  give  her  opin- 
ion frankly  and  freely  on  all  points,  that  the  surprise  was 
only  momentary. 

"And,  by  the  way,  I  mean  to  leave  the  same  sum  — 
one  thousand  pounds — to  my  cousin,  Captain  Bruce.  Ke- 
member  that, Helen  ;  remember  it  particularly,  will  you? 
in  case  any  thing  should  happen  before  I  have  time  to 
add  this  to  my  will.  But  to  the  Menteiths.  Your  fa- 
ther thinks,  and  I  agree  with  him,  that  the  money  I  de- 
sign for  them  will  be  far  better  spent  now,  or  some  por- 
tion of  it,  in  helping  these  fatherless  children  on  in  the 
world,  than  in  keeping  them  waiting  for  my  death,  which 
may  not  happen  for  years.  What  do  you  think?" 

Helen  agreed  heartily.  It  would  cause  a  certain  dim- 
inution of  yearly  income,  but  then  the  earl  had  far  more 
than  enough  for  his  own  wants,  and  if  not  spent  thus, 
the  sum  would  certainly  have  been  expended  by  him  in 
some  other  form  of  benevolence.  She  said  as  much. 

"  Possibly  it  might.  What  else  should  I  do  with  it?" 
was  Lord  Cairnforth's  answer.  "  But,  in  order  to  get  at 
the  money,  and  alter  my  will,  so  that  in  no  case  should 
this  sum  be  paid  twice  over,  to  the  injury  of  my  heir — I 


A  Noble  Life.  151 

must  take  care  of  my  heir,"  and  he  slightly  smiled,  "  I 
ought  to  go  at  once  to  Edinburg.     Shall  I?" 

Helen  hesitated.  The  earl's  last  journey  had  been  so 
unpropitious  —  he  had  taken  so  long  a  time  to  recover 
from  it  —  that  she  had  earnestly  hoped  he  would  never 
attempt  another.  She  expressed  this  as  delicately  as  she 
could. 

"  No,  I  never  would  have  attempted  it  for  myself. 
Change  is  only  pain  and  weariness  to  me.  I  have  no 
wish  to  leave  dear,  familiar  Cairnforth  till  I  leave  it  for 
— the  place  where  my  good  old  friend  is  now.  And 
sometimes,  Helen,  I  fancy  the  hills  of  Paradise  will  not 
be  very  unlike  the  hills  about  our  loch.  You  would 
think  of  me  far  away,  when  you  were  looking  at  them 
sometimes  ?" 

Helen  fixed  her  tender  eyes  upon  him — "It  is  quite  as 
likely  that  you  may  have  to  think  of  me  thus,  for  I  may 
go  first ;  I  am  the  elder  of  us  two.  But  all  that  is  in 
God's  hands  alone.  About  Edinburg  now.  When  should 
you  start?" 

.  "  At  once,  I  think ;  though,  with  my  slow  traveling,  I 
should  not  be  in  time  for  the  funeral ;  and  even  if  I  were, 
I  could  not  attend  it  without  giving  much  trouble  to  oth- 
er people.  But,  as  your  father  has  shown  me,  the  funer- 
al does  not  signify.  The  great  matter  is  to  be  of  use  to 
Mrs.  Menteith  and  the  children  in  the  way  I  explained. 
Have  I  your  consent,  my  dear?" 

For  answer,  Helen  pointed  to  a  few  lines  in  a  Bible 
which  lay  open  on  the  library  table :  no  doubt  her  fa- 
ther had  been  reading  out  of  it,  for  it  was  open  at  that 
portion  which  seems  to  have  plumbed  the  depth  of  all 


152  A  Noble  Life. 

human  anguish  —  the  Book  of  Job.  She  repeated  the 
verses : 

" '  When  the  ear  heard  me,  then  it  blessed  me ;  and 
when  the  eye  saw  me,  it  gave  witness  to  me ; 

"  '  Because  I  delivered  the  poor  that  cried,  and  the  fa- 
therless, and  him  that  had  none  to  help  him : 

"  '  The  blessing  of  him  that  was  ready  to  perish  came 
upon  me,  and  I  caused  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy/ 

"  That  is  what  will  be  said  of  you  one  day,  Lord  Cairn- 
forth.  Is  not  this  something  worth  living  for?" 

"Ay,  it  is !"  replied  the  earl,  deeply  moved ;  and  Helen 
was  scarcely  less  so. 

They  discussed  no  more  the  journey  to  Edinburg ;  but 
Lord  Cairnforth,  in  his  decided  way,  gave  orders  imme- 
diately to  prepare  for  it,  taking  with  him,  as  usual,  Mal- 
colm and  Mrs.  Campbell.  By  the  time  Captain  Bruce 
returned  from  his  ride,  the  guest  was  startled  by  the  news 
that  his  host  meant  to  quit  Cairnforth  at  daylight  the 
next  morning,  which  appeared  to  disconcert  the  captain 
exceedingly. 

"I  would  volunteer  to  accompany  you,  cousin,"  said 
he,  after  expressing  his  extreme  surprise  and  regret,  "but 
the  winds  of  Edinburg  are  ruin  to  my  weak  lungs,  which, 
the  air  here  suits  so  well.  So  I  must  prepnre  to  quit 
pleasant  Cairnforth,  where  I  have  received  so  much  kind- 
ness, and  which  I  have  grown  to  regard  almost  like  home 
— the  nearest  approach  to  home  that  in  my  sad,  wander- 
ing life  I  ever  knew." 

There  was  an  unmistakable  regret  in  the  young  man's 
tone  which,  in  spite  of  his  own  trouble,  went  to  the  carl's 
good  heart. 


A  Noble  Life.  153 

"  Why  should  you  leave  at  all?"  said  he.  "  Why  not 
remain  here  and  await  my  return,  which  can  not  be  long 
delayed — two  months  at  most — even  counting  my  slow 
traveling  ?  I  will  give  you  something  to  do  meanwhile : 
I  will  make  you  viceroy  of  Cairnforth  during  my  absence 
— that  is,  under  Miss  Cardross,  who  alone  knows  all  the 
parish  affairs — and  mine.  Will  you  accept  the  office  ?" 

"  Under  Miss  Cardross  ?"  Captain  Bruce  laughed,  but 
did  not  seem  quite  to  relish  it.  However,  he  expressed 
much  gratitude  at  having  been  thought  worthy  of  the 
earl's  confidence. 

"Don't  be  humble,  my  good  cousin  and  friend.  If  I 
did  not  trust  you,  and  like  you,  I  should  never  think  of 
asking  you  to  stay.  Mr.  Cardross — Helen — what  do  you 
say  to  my  plan  ?" 

Both  gave  a  cordial  assent,  as  was  indeed  certain. 
Nothing  ill  was  known  of  Captain  Bruce,  and  nothing 
noticed  in  him  unlikeable,  or  unworthy  of  liking.  And 
even  as  to  his  family,  who  wrote  to  him  constantly,  and 
whose  letters  he  often  showed,  there  had  appeared  suffi- 
cient evidence  in  their  favor  to  counterbalance  much  of 
the  suspicions  against  them,  so  that  the  earl  was  glad  he 
had  leaned  to  the  charitable  side  in  making  his  cousin 
welcome  to  Cairnforth ;  glad,  too,  that  he  could  atone  by 
Warm  confidence  and  extra  kindness  for  what  now  seemed 
too  long  a  neglect  of  those  who  were  really  his  nearest 
kith  and  kin. 

Mr.  Cardross  also;  any  prejudices  he  had  from  his 
knowledge  of  the  late  earl's  troubles  with  the  Bruces 
were  long  ago  dispersed.  And  Helen  was  too  innocent 
herself  ever  to  have  had  a  prejudice  at  all.  She  said, 

G2 


154  A  Nolle  Life. 

when  appealed  to  pointedly  by  the  earl,  as  he  now  often 
appealed  to  her  in  many  things,  that  she  thought  the 
scheme  both  pleasant  and  advisable. 

"And  now,  papa,"  added  she,  for  her  watchful  eye  de- 
tected Lord  Cairnforth's  pale  face  and  wearied  air,  "let 
us  say  good-night — and  good-by." 

Long  after,  they  remembered,  all  of  them,  what  an  ex- 
ceedingly quiet  and  ordinary  good-by  it  was,  none  hav- 
ing the  slightest  feeling  that  it  was  more  than  a  tempora- 
ry parting.  The  whole  thing  had  been,  so  sudden,  and 
the  day's  events  appeared  quite  shadowy,  and  as  if  every 
body  would  wake  up  to-morrow  morning  to  find  them 
nothing  but  a  dream. 

Besides,  there  was  a  little  hurrying  and  confusion  con- 
sequent on  the  earl's  insisting  on  sending  the  Cardrosses 
home,  for  the  dull,  calm  day  had  changed  into  the  wild- 
est of  nights  —  one  of  those  sudden  equinoctial  storms, 
that  in  an  hour  or  two  alter  the  whole  aspect  of  things  in 
this  region. 

"You  must  take  the  carriage,  Helen  —  you  and  your 
father ;  it  is  the  last  thing  I  can  do  for  you — and  I  would 
do  every  thing  in  the  world  for  you  if  I  could ;  but  I 
shall,  one  day.  Good-by.  Take  care  of  yourself,  my 
dear." 

These  were  the  earl's  farewell  words  to  her.  She  was 
so  accustomed  to  his  goodness  and  kindness  that  she 
never  thought  much  about  them  till  long  afterward,  when 
kindness  was  gone,  and  goodness  seemed  the  merest  de- 
lusion and  dream. 

When  his  friends  had  departed,  Lord  Cairnforth  sat 
silent  and  melancholy.  His  cousin  good-naturedly  tried 


A  Noble  Life.  155 

to  rouse  him  into  the  usual  contest  at  chess  with  which 
they  had  begun  to  while  away  the  long  winter  evenings, 
and  which  just  suited  Lord  Cairnforth's  acute,  accurate, 
and  introspective  brain,  accustomed  to  plan  and  to  order, 
so  that  he  delighted  in  the  game,  and  was  soon  as  good  a 
player  as  his  teacher.  But  now  his  mind  was  disturbed 
and  restless ;  he  sat  by  the  fireside,  listening  to  the  fierce 
wind  that  went  howling  round  and  round  the  Castle,  as 
the  wind  can  howl  along  the  sometimes  placid  shores  of 
Loch  Beg. 

"  I  hope  they  have  reached  the  Manse  in  safety.  Let 
me  know,  Malcolm,  when  the  carriage  returns.  I  will  go 
to  bed  then.  I  wish  they  would  have  remained  here ; 
but  the  minister  never  will  stay ;  he  dislikes  sleeping  a 
single  night  from  under  his  own  roof.  Is  he  not  a  good 
man,  cousin — one  of  a  thousand  ?" 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  it" 

"And  his  daughter — have  you  in  any  way  modified 
your  opinion  of  her,  which  at  first  was  not  very  favora- 
ble?" 

"  Not  as  to  her  beauty,  certainly,"  was  the  careless  re- 
ply. "She's  'no  bonnie,7  as  you  say  in  these  parts — 
terribly  Scotch  ;  but  she  is  very  good.  Only  don't  you 
think  good  people  are  just  a  little  wearisome  sometimes?'^ 

The  earl  smiled.     He  was  accustomed  to,  and  often 
rather  amused  by  his  cousin's  honest  worldliness  and  out- 
spoken skepticisms  —  that  candid  confession  of  badness  ^ 
which  always  inclines  a  kindly  heart  to  believe  the  very  •' 
best  of  the  penitent. 

"  Nevertheless,  though  Miss  Cardross  may  be  '  no  bon- 
nie,7 and  too  good  to  please  your  taste,  I  hope  you  will  go 


156  A  Nolle  Life. 

often  to  the  Manse  in  my  absence,  and  write  me  word 
how  they  are,  otherwise  I  shall  hear  little — the  minister's 
letters  are  too  voluminous  to  be  frequent — and  Miss  Card- 
ross  is  not  given  to  much  correspondence." 

Captain  Bruce  promised,  and  again  the  two  young  men 
sat  silent,  listening  to  the  eerie  howling  of  the  wind.  It 
inclined  both  of  them  to  graver  talk  than  was  their  habit 
when  together. 

"I  wonder,"  said  the  earl,  "  whether  this  blast,  accord- 
ing to  popular  superstition,  is  come  to  carry  many  souls 
away  with  it  *  on  the  wings  of  the  wind !'  Where  will 
they  fly  to  the  instant  they  leave  the  body  ?  How  free 
and  happy  they  must  feel !" 

"What  an  odd  fancy!  and  not  a  particularly  pleasant 
one,"  replied  the  captain,  with  a  shiver. 

"  Not  unpleasant,  to  my  mind.  I  like  to  think  of  these 
things.  If  I  were  out  of  the  body,  I  should,  if  I  could, 
fly  back  to  Cairnforth." 

"  Pray  don't  imagine  such  dreadful  things.  May  you 
live  a  hundred  years !" 

"  Not  quite,  I  hope.  A  hundred  years — of  my  life ! 
No.  The  most  loving  friend  I  have  would  not  wish  it  for 
me."  Then,  suddenly,  as  with  an  impulse  created  by  the 
sad  events  of  the  day — the  stormy  night — and  the  dis- 
turbed state  of  his  own  mental  condition,  inclining  him 
to  any  sort  of  companionship,  "  Cousin,  I  am  going  to 
trust  you,  specially,  in  a  matter  of  business  which  I  wish 
named  to  the  Cardrosses.  I  should  have  done  so  be- 
fore they  left  to-night.  May  I  confide  to  you  the  mes- 
sage?" " 

"Willingly.     What  is  it  about?"  and  the  captain's 


A  Noble  Life.  157 

keen  black  eyes  assumed  an  expression  which,  if  the  earl 
had  noticed,  he  might  have  repented,  of  his  trust.  But 
no,  he  never  would  have  noticed  it.  His  upright,  honest 
nature,  though  capable  of  great  reserve,  was  utterly  in- 
capable of  false  pretenses,  deceit,  or  self-interested  diplo- 
macy. And  what  was  impossible  in  himself  he  never  ,j 
suspected  in  other  people.  He  thought  his  cousin  shal- 
low sometimes,  but  good-natured ;  a  little  worldly,  per- 
haps, but  always  well-meaning.  That  Captain  Bruce 
could  have  come  to  Cairnforth  for  any  other  purpose  than 
mere  curiosity,  and  remained  there  for  any  motive  except 
idleness  and  the  pursuit  of  health,  did  not  occur  to  Lord 
Cairnforth. 

"  It  is  on  the  subject  that  you  so  much  dislike  my  talk- 
ing about — my  own  death  ;  a  probability  which  I  have 
to  consider,  as  being  rather  nearer  to  me  than  it  is  to 
most  people.  Should  I  die,  will  you  remember  that  my 
will  lies  at  the  office  of  Menteith  and  Eoss,  Edinburg?" 

"So  you  have  made  your  will?"  said  the  captain, 
rather  eagerly;  then  added,  "What  a  courageous  man 
you  are !  I  never  durst  make  mine.  But  then,  to  be 
sure,  I  have  nothing  to  leave — except  my  sword,  which  I 
hereby  make  over  to  you,  well-beloved  cousin." 

"  Thank  you,  though  I  should  have  very  little  use  for 
it.  And  that  reminds  me  to  explain  something.  The 
day  I  made  my  will  was,  by  an  odd  chance,  the  day  you 
arrived  here.  Had  I  known  you  then,  I  should  have 
named  you  in  it,  leaving  you — I  may  as  well  tell  you  the 
sum— a  thousand  pounds,  in  token  of  cousinly  regard." 

"You  are  exceedingly  kind,  but  I  am  no  fortune- 
hunter." 


158  A  Noble  Lift. 

"  I  know  that.  Still,  the  legacy  may  not  be  useless. 
I  shall  make  it  legally  secure  as  soon  as  I  get  to  Edin- 
burg.  In  any  case  you  are  quite  safe,  for  I  have  men- 
tioned you  to  my  heir." 

"  Your  heir !  who  do  you  mean  ?"  interrupted  Captain 
Bruce,  thrown  off  his  guard  by  excessive  surprise. 

The  earl  said,  with  a  little  dignity  of  manner,  "It  is 
scarcely  needful  to  answer  your  question.  The  title,  you 
are  aware,  will  be  extinct ;  I  meant  the  successor  to  my 
landed  property." 

"  Do  I  know  the  gentleman  ?" 

"I  named  no  gentleman." 

"  Not  surely  a  lady  ?  Not — "  a  light  suddenly  break- 
ing in  upon  him,  so  startling  that  it  overthrew  all  his 
self-control,  and  even  his  good  breeding.  "It  can  not 
possibly  be  Miss  Helen  Cardross?" 

"  Captain  Bruce,"  said  the  earl,  the  angry  color  flash- 
ing all  over  his  pale  face,  "I  was  simply  communicating 
a  message  to  you;  there  was  no  need  for  any  farther 
questioning." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lord  Cairnforth,"  returned  the 
other,  perceiving  how  great  a  mistake  he  had  made.  "I 
have  no  right  whatever  to  question,  or  even  to  speculate 
concerning  your  heir,  who  is  doubtless  the  fittest  person 
you  could  have  selected." 

"  Most  certainly,"  replied  the  earl,  in  a  manner  which 
put  a  final  stop  to  the  conversation. 

It  was  not  resumed  on  any  other  topics ;  and  shortly 
afterward,  Malcolm  having  come  in  with  the  announce- 
ment that  the  carriage  had  returned  from  the  Manse  (at 
which  Captain  Bruce's  sharp  eyes  were  bent  scrutiniz- 


A  Nobk  Life.  159 

ingly  on  the  earl's  face,  but  learned  nothing  thence),  the 
cousins  separated. 

The  captain  had  faithfully  promised  to  be  up  at  dawn 
to  see  the  travelers  off,  but  an  apology  came  from  him  to 
the  effect  that  the  morning  air  was  too  damp  for  his  lungs, 
and  that  he  had  spent  a  sleepless  night  owing  to  his 
cough. 

"  An'  nae  wonder,"  remarked  Malcolm,  cynically,  as  he 
delivered  the  message,  "for  I  heard  him  a'  through  the 
wee  hours  walkin'  and  walkin'  up  and  doun,  for  a'  the 
world  like  a  wolf  in  a  cage.  And  eh,  but  he's  dour  the 
day!" 

"A  sickly  man  finds  it  difficult  not  to  be  dour  at 
times,"  said  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth. 


tre 


THE  earl  reached  Edinburg  in  the  beginning  of  winter, 
and  in  those  days  an  Edinburg  winter  was  a  very  gay 
season.  That  brilliant  society,  which  has  now  become  a 
matter  of  tradition,  was  then  in  its  zenith.  Those  re- 
nowned supper-parties,  where  great  wits,  learned  philoso- 
phers, and  clever  and  beautiful  women  met  together,  a 
most  enjoyable  company,  were  going  on  almost  every 
night,  and  drawing  into  their  various  small  circles  every 
thing  that  was  most  attractive  in  the  larger  circle  outside. 

Lord  Cairnforth  was  a  long  time  before  he  suffered 
himself  to  be  drawn  in  likewise ;  but  the  business  which 
detained  him  in  Edinburg  grew  more  and  more  tedious ; 
he  found  difficulties  arise  on  every  hand,  and  yet  he  was 
determined  not  to  leave  until  he  had  done  all  he  wanted 
to  do.  Not  only  in  money,  but  by  personal  influence, 
which,  now  that  he  tried  to  use  it,  he  found  was  consid- 
erable, he  furthered,  in  many  ways,  the  interests  of  Mr. 
Menteith's  sons.  The  widow,  too,  a  gentle,  helpless  wom- 
*an,  soon  discovered  where  to  come  to,  on  all  occasions, 
for  counsel  and  aid.  Never  had  the  earl  led  such  a  busy 
life — one  more  active,  as  far  as  his  capabilities  allowed. 

Still,  now  and  then  time  hung  on  his  hands,  and  he 
felt  a  great  lack  of  companionship,  until,  by  degrees,  his 
name  and  a  good  deal  of  his  history  got  noised  abroad, 


A  Noble  Life. 

and  lie  was  perfectly  inundated  with  acquaintances.  Of 
course,  he  had  it  at  his  own  option  how  much  or  how  lit- 
tle he  went  out  into  the  world.  Every  advantage  that 
rank  or  fortune  could  give  was  his  already ;  but  he  had 
another  possession  still — his  own  as  much  here  as  in  the 
solitudes  of  Cairnforth,  the  art  of  making  himself  "  weel 
likit."  The  mob  of  "good  society,"  which  is  no  better 
than  any  other  mob,  will  run  after  money,  position,  tal- 
ent, beauty,  for  a  time ;  but  it  requires  a  quality  higher 
\  and  deeper  than  these,  and  distinct  from  them  all,  to  pro- 
duce lasting  popularity. 

This  the  earl  had.  In  spite  of  his  infirmities,  he  pos- 
sessed the  rare  power  of  winning  love,  of  making  people 
love  him  for  his  own  sake.  At  first,  of  course,  his  soci- 
ety was  sought  from  mere  curiosity,  or  even  through 
meaner  motives ;  but  gradually,  like  the  good  clergy- 
man with  whom 

"Fools  who  came  to  scoff  remained  to  pray," 

those  who  visited  him  to  stare  at,  or  pity  a  fellow-creature 
so  afflicted,  remained,  attached  by  his  gentleness,  his  pa- 
tience, his  wonderful  unselfishness.  And  some  few,  of 
noble  mind,  saw  in  him  the  grandest  and  most  religious 
spectacle  that  men  can  look  upon — a  human  soul  which 
has  not  suffered  itself  to  be  conquered  by  adversity. 

Yery  soon  the  earl  gathered  round  him,  besides  ac- 
quaintances, a  knot  of  real  friends,  affectionate  and  true, 
who,  in  the  charm  of  his  cultivated  mind,  and  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  good  heart,  found  ample  amends  for  every 
thing  that  nature  had  denied  him,  the  loss  of  which  he 
bore  so  cheerfully  and  uncomplainingly. 


A  Noble  Life.  165 

By -anti -by,  induced  by  these,  the  excellent  people 
whom,  as  by  mesmeric  attraction,  goodness  soon  draws 
to  itself,  he  began  to  go  out  a  little  into  society.  It  could 
be  done,  with  some  personal  difficulty  and  pain,  and  some 
slight  trouble  to  his  friends,  which  last  was  for  a  long 
time  his  chief  objection ;  for  a  merciful  familiarity  with 
his  own  affliction  had  been  brought  about  by  time,  and 
by  the  fact  that  he  had  never  known  any  other  sort  of 
existence,  and  only,  as  a  blind  person  guesses  at  colors, 
could  speculate  upon  how  it  must  feel  to  move  about 
freely,  to  walk  and  run.  He  had  also  lost  much  of  his 
early  shyness,  and  ceased  to  feel  any  actual  dread  of  be- 
ing looked  at.  His  chief  difficulty  was  the  practical  one 
of  locomotion,  and  this  for  him  was  solved  much  easier 
than  if  he  had  been  a  man  of  limited  means.  By  some 
expenditure  of  money,  and  by  a  good  deal  of  ingenious 
contrivance,  he  managed  to  be  taken  about  as  easily  in 
Edinburg  as  at  Cairnforth ;  was  present  at  church  and 
law-court,  theatre  and  concert-room,  and  at  many  a  pleas- 
ant reunion  of  pleasant  people  every  where. 

For  in  his  heart  Lord  Cairnforth  rather  liked  society. 
To  him,  whose  external  resources  were  so  limited,  who 
could  in  truth  do  nothing  for  his  own  amusement  but 
read,  social  enjoyments  were  very  valuable.  He  took 
pleasure  in  watching  the  encounter  of  keen  wits,  the  talk 
of  clever  conversationalists.  His  own  talent  in  that  line 
was  not  small,  though  he  seldom  used  it  in  large  circles  ; 
but  with  two  or  three  only  about  him,  the  treasures  of  his 
well-stored  mind  came  out  often  very  brilliantly.  Then 
he  was  so  alive  to  all  that  was  passing  in  the  world  out- 
side, and  took  as  keen  an  interest  in  politics,  social  ethics, 


166  A  Noble  Life. 

and  schemes  of  philanthropy  as  if  he  himself  had  been 
like  other  men,  instead  of  being  condemned  (or  exalted  , 
- — which  shall  we  say  ?     Dis  aliter  visum  /)  to  a  destiny 
of  such  solemn  and  awful  isolation. 

Yet  he  never  put  forward  his  affliction  so  as  to  make 
it  painful  to  those  around  him.  Many,  in  the  generation 
now  nearly  passed  away,  long  and., tenderly  remembered 
the  little  figure,  placed  motionless  in  the  centre  of  a  bril- 
liant circle — all  clever  men  and  charming  women — yet 
of  whose  notice  the  cleverest  and  most  charming  were 
always  proud.  Not  because  he  was  an  earl — nobility 
were  plentiful  enough  at  Edinburg  then — but  because  he 
was  himself.  It  was  a  pleasure  just  to  sit  beside  him, 
and  to  meet  his  pleasantness  with  cheerful  chat,  gay  ban- 
ter, or  affectionate  earnestness. 

\  For  every  body  loved  him.  Women,  of  course,  did ; 
they  could  not  help  it ;  but  men  were  drawn  to  him  like- 
wise, with  the  sort  of  reverential  tenderness  that  they 
would  feel  toward  a  suffering  child  or  woman — and 
something  more — intense  respect.  His  high  sense  of 
honor,  his  true  manliness,  attracted  the  best  of  all  the  no- 
tabilities then  constituting  that  brilliant  set ;  and  there 
was  not  one  of  them  worth  having  for  a  friend  at  all  who 
was  not,  in  greater  or  less  degree,  the  friend  of  the  Earl 
of  Cairnforth. 

But  there  was  another  side  of  his  Edinburg  life  which 
did  not  appear  till  long  after  he  had  quitted  Modern 
Athens  forever — nor  even  then  fully ;  not  until  he  had 
passed  quite  away  from  the  comments  of  this  mortal 
world.  Then,  many  a  struggling  author,  or  worn-out 
professional  man,  to  whom  life  was  all  up-hill,  or  to  wLora 


A  Nobk  Life.  167 

sudden  misfortune  had  made  the  handful  of  "  siller"  a 
matter  of  absolute  salvation  to  both  body  and  soul — 
scores  of  such  as  these  afterward  recalled  hours  or  half 
hours  spent  in  the  cosy  study  in  Charlotte  Square,  be- 
side the  little  figure  in  its  chair — outwardly  capable  of 
so  little,  yet  endowed  with  both  the  power  and  will  to 
do  so  much.  IJoing  it  so  generously,  too,  and  withal  so 
delicately,  that  the  most  sensitive  went  away  with  their 
pride  un  wounded,  and  the  most  hardened  and  irreligious 
were  softened  by  it  into  thankfulness  to  One  higher  than 
their  earthly  benefactor,  who  was  only  the  medium 
through  whom  the  blessings  came. 

These  were  accidental  offices,  intermingled  with  the 
principal  duty  which  the  earl  had  undertaken,  and  which 
he  carried  out  with  unremitting  diligence — the  care  of 
his  old  friend's  children.  He  placed  some  at  school,  and 
others  at  college ;  those  who  were  already  afloat  in  the 
world  he  aided  with  money  and  influence  —  an  earl's 
name  was  so  very  influential,  as,  with  an  amused  smile, 
he  occasionally  discovered. 

But,  busy  as  his  new  life  was,  he  never  forgot  his  old 
life  and  his  old  friends.  He  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all  per- 
suasions to  take  up  his  permanent  abode,  according  as 
his  rank  and  fortune  warranted,  in  Edinburg.  He  was 
not  unhappy  there — he  had  plenty  to  do  and  to  enjoy ; 
but  his  heart  was  in  quiet  Cairnfprth.  Several  times, 
troublesome,  and  even  painful  as  the  act  of  penmanship 
was  to  him,  he  sent  a  few  lines  to  the  Manse.  But  it 
happened  to  be  a  very  severe  winter,  which  made  postal 
communication  difficult.  Besides,  in  those  days  people 
neither  wrote  nor  expected  letters  very  often.  During 


168  A  Noble  Life. 

the  three  months  that  Lord  Cairnforth  remained  in  Edin- 
burg  he  only  received  two  epistles  from  Mr.  Cardross, 
and  those  were  in  prolix  and  Johnsonian  style,  on  liter- 
ary topics,  and  concerning  the  great  and  learned,  with 
whom  the  poor  learned  country  minister  had  all  his  life 
longed  to  mix,  and  had  never  been  able. 

Helen,  who  had  scarcely  penned  a  dozen,  letters  in  her 
life,  wrote  to  him  once  only,  in  reply  to  one  of  his,  telling 
him  she  was  doing  every  thing  as  she  thought  he  would 
best  like ;  that  Captain  Bruce  had  assisted  her  and  her 
father  in  many  ways,  so  far  as  his  health  allowed,  but  he 
was  very  delicate  still,  and  talked  of  going  abroad,  to  the 
south  of  France  probably,  as  soon  as  possible.  The  cap- 
tain himself  never  wrote  one  single  line. 

At  first  the  earl  was  a  little  surprised  at  this:  how- 
ever, it  was  not  his  habit  easily  to  take  offense  at  his 
friends.  He  was  quite  without  that  morbid  self-esteem 

I  which  is  always  imagining  affronts  or  injuries.  If  peo- 
ple liked  him,  he  was  glad  ;  if  they  showed  it,  he  believed 
them,  and  rested  in  their  affection  with  the  simple  faith 
of  a  child.  But  if  they  seemed  to  neglect  him,  he  still 
was  ready  to  conclude  the  slight  was  accidental,  and  he 
rarely  grieved  over  it.  Mere  acquaintances  had  not  the 
power  to  touch  his  heart.  And  this  gentle  heart  which, 
liking  many,  loved  but  few,  none  whom  he  loved  ever 

1  could  really  offend.     He 

V     "  Grappled  them  to  his  soul  with  hooks  of  steel," 

and  believed  in  them  to  the  last  extremity  of  faith  that 
was  possible. 

So,  whether  Captain  Bruce  came  under  the  latter  catc- 


A  Nobk  Life.  169 

gory  or  the  former,  his  conduct  was  passed  over,  waiting 
for  future  explanation  when  Lord  Cairnforth  returned 
home,  as  now,  every  day,  he  was  wearying  to  do. 

"  But  I  will  be  back  again  in  pleasant  Edinburg  next 
winter,"  said  he  to  one  of  his  new  friends,  who  had  helped 
to  make  his  stay  pleasant,  and  was  sorely  regretting  his 
departure.  "  And  I  shall  bring  with  me  some  very  old 
friends  of  mine,  who  will  enjoy  it  as  much  as  I  shall  my- 
self." 

And  he  planned,  and  even  made  preliminary  arrange- 
ments for  a  house  to  be  taken,  and  an  establishment 
formed,  where  the  minister,  Helen,  and,  indeed,  all  the 
Cardross  family,  if  they  chose,  might  find  a  hospitable 
home  for  the  ensuing  winter  season. 

"And  how  they  will  like  it!"  said  he,  in  talking  it 
over  with  Malcolm  one  day.  "How  the  minister  will 
bury  himself  in  old  libraries,  and  Miss  Cardross  will  ad- 
mire the  grand  shops  and  the  beautiful  views.  And  how 
the  boys  will  go  skating  on  Dunsappie  Loch,  and  golfing 
over  Bruntsfield  Links.  Oh,  we'll  make  them  all  so  hap- 
py !"  added  he,  with  pleasure  shining  in  those  contented 
eyes,  which  drew  half  their  light  from  the  joy  that  they 
saw,  and  caused  to  shine  in  the  eyes  around  him. 

It  was  after  many  days  of  fatiguing  travel  that  Lord 
Cairnforth  reached  the  ferry  opposite  Cairnforth. 

There  the  Castle  stood,  just  as  he  had  left  it,  its  white 
front  gleaming  against  the  black  woods,  then  yellow  and 
brown  with  autumn,  but  now  only  black,  or  with  a  faint 
umber  shadow  running  through  them,  preparatory  to  the 
green  of  spring.  Between  lay  the  beautiful  loch,  looking 
ten  times  more  beautiful  than  ever  to  eyes  which  had  not 

H 


170  A  Noble  Life. 

seen  it  for  many  long  months.  How  it  danced  and  dim- 
pled, as  it  bad  done  before  the  squall  in  which  the  earl's 
father  was  drowned,  and  as  it  would  do  many  a  time 
again,  after  the  fashion  of  these  lovely,  deceitful  lochs, 
and  of  many  other  things  in  this  world. 

"  Oh,  Malcolm,  it's  good  to  be  at  home  1"  said  the  earl, 
as  he  gazed  fondly  at  his  white  castle  walls,  at  the  ivy- 
covered  kirk,  and  the  gable  end  of  the  Manse.  He  had 
been  happy  in  Edinburg,  but  it  was  far  sweeter  to  come 
to  the  dear  old  friends  that  loved  him.  He  seemed  as  if 
he  had  never  before  felt  how  dear  they  were,  and  how 
indispensable  to  his  happiness. 

"  You  are  quite  sure,  Malcolm,  that  nobody  knows  we 
are  coming  ?  I  wished  to  go  down  at  once  to  the  Manse, 
and  surprise  them  all." 

"  Ye'll  easy  do  that,  my  lord,  for  there's  naebody  in 
sight  but  Sandy  the  ferryman,  wha  little  kens  it's  the 
earl  himsel  he's  keepit  waiting  sae  lang." 

"And  how's  a'  wi'  ye,  Sandy?"  said  Lord  Cairnforth, 
cheerily,  when  the  old  man  was  rowing  him  across.  "All 
well  at  home — at  the  Castle,  the  Manse,  and  the  clachan?" 

"  Ou  ay,  my  lord.  Except  maybe  the  minister,  lie's 
no  weel.  He's  missing  Miss  Helen  sair." 

"Missing  Miss  Helen!"  echoed  the  earl,  turning  pale. 

"Ay,  my  lord.  She  gaed  awa — it's  just  twa  days  sin 
syne.  She  was  sair  vexed  to  leave  Cairnforth  and  the 
minister." 

"Leave  her  father?" 

"  A  man  maun  leave  father  and  mither,  and  cleava 
unto  his  wife  —  the  Scripture  says  it.  And  a  woman 
maun  just  do  the  like  for  her  man,  ye  ken.  Miss  Helen's 


A  Noble  Life.  171 

awa  to  France,  or  some  sic  place,  wi'  her  husband,  Captain 
Bruce." 

The  earl  was  sitting  in  the  stern  of  the  ferry-boat  alone, 
no  one  being  near  him  but  Sandy,  and  Malcolm,  who  had 
taken  the  second  oar.  To  old  Sandy's  communication  he 
replied  not  a  word — asked  not  a  single  question  more — 
and  was  lifted  out  at  the  end  of  the  five-minutes'  passage 
just  as  usual.  But  the  two  men,  though  they  also  said 
nothing,  remembered  the  expression  of  his  face  to  their 
dying  clay. 

"  Take  me  home,  Malcolm ;  I  will  go  to  the  Manse  an- 
other time.  Carry  me  in  your  arms — the  quickest  way." 

Malcolm  lifted  his  master,  and  carried  him,  just  as  in 
the  days  when  the  earl  was  a  child,  through  the  pleasant 
woods  of  Cairnforth,  up  to  the  Castle  door. 

Nobody  had  expected  them,  and  there  was  nothing 
ready. 

"It's  no  matter — no  matter," feebly  said  the  earl,  and 
allowed  himself  to  be  placed  in  an  arm-chair  by  the  fire 
in  the  housekeeper's  room.  There  he  sat  passive. 

"Will  I  bring  the  minister?"  whispered  Malcolm,  re- 
spectfully. "Maybe  ye  wad  like  to  see  him,  my  lord." 

"No,  no." 

"His  lordship's  no  weel  pleased,"  said  the  housekeeper 
to  Mrs.  Campbell,  when  the  earl  leant  his  head  back,  and 
seemed  to  be  sleeping.  "  Is  it  about  the  captain's  mar- 
riage? Did  he  no  ken  ?" 

"  Ne'er  a  word  o't." 

"  That  was  great  lack  o'  respect  on  the  part  o'  Captain 
Bruce,  and  he  sic  a  pleasant  young  man ;  and  Helen,  too. 
Miss  Helen  tauld  me  her  ain  sel  that  the  earl  was  greatly 


172  A  Noble  Life. 

set  upon  her  marriage,  for  the  captain  gaed  to  Edinburg 
just  to  tell  him  o't.  And  he  wrote  her  word  that  his 
lordship  wished  him  no  to  bide  a  single  day,  but  to  mar- 
ry Miss  Helen  and  tak  her  awa'.  She'd  never  hae  done 
it,  in  my  opinion,  but  for  that.  For  the  captain  was  at 
her  ilka  day  an  a'  day  lang,  looking  like  a  ghaist,  and 
tellin'  her  he  couldna  live  without  her — and  she's  a  ten- 
der heart,  Miss  Helen  —  and  she  was  sae  awfu'  vexed 
for  him,  ye  ken.  For,  sure,  Malcolm,  the  captain  did 
seem  almost  like  deem'." 

"  Deem' !"  cried  Malcolm,  contemptuously,  and  then 
stopped.  For  while  they  were  talking  the  earl's  eyes 
had  opened  wide,  and  fixed  with  a  strange,  sad,  terrified 
look  upon  vacancy. 

He  remembered  it  all  now  —  the  last  night  he  had 
spent  at  Cairnforth  with  his  cousin — the  conversation 
which  passed  between  them — the  questions  asked,  which, 
from  his  not  answering,  might  have  enabled  the  captain 
to  guess  at  the  probable  disposal  of  his  property.  He 
could  come  to  no  other  conclusion  than  that  Captain 
Bruce  had  married  Helen  with  the  same  motive  which 
must  have  induced  his  appearance  at  the  castle,  and  his 
eager  and  successful  efforts  to  ingratiate  himself  there — 
namely,  money ;  that  the  fortune  which  he  had  himself 
missed  might  accrue  to  him  through  his  union  with  Lord 
Cairnforth's  heiress. 

How  had  he  possibly  accomplished  this?  How  had 
he  succeeded  in  making  good,  innocent,  simple  Helen 
love  him?  for  that  she  would  never  have  married  with- 
out love  the  earl  well  knew.  By  what  persuasions,  en- 
treaties, or  lies  —  the  housekeeper's  story  involved  some 


A  Noble  Life.  173 

evident  lies  —  lie  had  attained  his  end,  remained,  and 
must  ever  remain,  among  the  mysteries  of  the  many 
mysterious  marriages  which  take  place  every  day. 

And  it  was  all  over.  She  was  married,  and  gone  away. 
Doubtless  the  captain  had  taken  his  precautions  to  pre- 
vent any  possible  hinderance.  That  it  was  a  safe  mar- 
riage legally,  even  though  so  little  was  known  of  the 
bridegroom's  antecedent  life,  seemed  more  than  probable 
— certain,  seeing  that  the  chief  object  he  would  have  in 
this  marriage  was  its  legality,  to  assure  himself  thereby 
of  the  property  which,  should  fall  to  Helen  in  the  event 
of  the  earl's  decease.  That  he  loved  Helen  for  herself, 
or  was  capable  of  loving  her  or  any  woman  in  the  one 
noble,  true  way,  the  largest  limit  of  charitable  interpret- 
ation could  hardly  suppose  possible. 

Still,  she  had  loved  him  — she  must  have  done  so — 
with  that  strange,  sudden  idealization  of  love  which  some- 
times seizes  upon  a  woman  who  has  reached — more  than     / 
reached — mature  womanhood,  and  never  experienced  the/7 
passion.     And  she  had  married  him,  and  gone  away  with 
him — left,  for  his  sake,  father,  brothers,  friends — her  one 
special  friend,  who  was  now  nothing  to  her — nothing! 

Whatever  emotions  the  earl  felt — and  it  would  be  al- 
most sacrilegious  to  intrude  upon  them,  or  to  venture  on 
any  idle  speculation  concerning  them  —  one  thing  was 
clear;  in  losing  Helen,  the  light  of  his  eyes,  the  delight 
of  his  life  was  gone. 

He  sat  in  his  chair  quite  still,  as  indeed  he  always  was, 
but  now  it  was  a  deathlike  quietness,  without  the  least 
sign  of  that  wonderful  mobility  of  feature  and  cheerful- 
ness of  voice  and  manner  which  made  people  so  soon 


174  A  Noble  Life. 

grow  used  to  his  infirmity  —  sat  until  his  room  was  pre- 
pared. Then  he  suffered  himself  to  be  carried  to  his 
bed,  which,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  refused  to 
leave  for  several  days. 

Not  that  he  was  ill — he  declined  any  medical  help,  and 
declared  that  he  was  only  "  weary,  weary" — at  which,  aft- 
er his  long  journey,  no  one  was  surprised.  He  refused 
to  see  any  body,  even  Mr.  Cardross,  and  would  suffer  no 
one  beside  him  but  his  old  nurse,  Mrs.  Campbell,  whom 
he  seemed  to  cling  to  as  when  he  was  a  little  child.  For 
hours  she  sat  by  his  bed,  watching  him,  but  scarcely 
speaking  a  word;  and  for  hours  he  lay,  his  eyes  wide 
open,  but  with  that  blank  expression  in  them  which  Mrs. 
Campbell  had  first  noticed  when  he  sat  by  the  housekeep- 
er's fire. 

"My  bairn!  my  bairn!"  was  all  she  said — for  she  was 
a  very  simple  woman — but  she  loved  him.  And,  some- 
how, her  love  comforted  him.  "  Ye  maun  live,  ye  maun 
live.  Maybe  they'll  need  ye  yet,"  sobbed  she,  without 
explaining  —  perhaps  without  knowing  —  who  "they" 
meant.  But  she  knew  enough  of  her  "bairn"  to  know 
that  if  any  thing  would  rouse  him  it  was  the  thought  of 
other  folk. 

"  Do  you  think  so,  nurse  ?  Do  you  think  T  can  be  of 
any  good  to  any  creature  in  this  world?" 

"Ay,  ye  can,  ye  can,  my  lord — ye'd  be  awfully  missed 
gin  ye  were  to  dee." 

"  Then  I'll  no  dee" — faintly  smiling,  and  using  the  fa- 
miliar speech  of  his  childhood.  "  Call  Malcolm.  I'll  try 
to  rise.  And,  nurse,  if  you  would  have  the  carriage  or- 
dered—  the  pony  carriage  —  I  will  drive  down  to  the 


A  Nolle  Life.  175 

Manse  and  see  how  Mr.  Cardross  is.     He  must  be  rather 
dull  without  his  daughter." 

The  earl  did  not— and  it  was  long  before  he  did — call 
her  by  her  name.  But  after  that  day  he  always  spoke  of 
her  as  usual  to  every  body ;  and  from  that  hour  he  rose 
from  his  bed,  and  went  about  his  customary  work  in  his 
customary  manner,  taking  up  all  his  duties  as  if  he  had 
never  left  them,  and  as  if  nothing  had  ever  happened  to 
disturb  the  even  tenor  of  his  life — the  strange,  peaceful, 
and  yet  busy  life  led  by  the  solitary  master  of  Cairnforth. 


H2 


IT  happened  that,  both  this  day  and  the  day  following, 
Mr.  Cardross  was  absent  on  one  of  his  customary  house- 
to-house  visitings  in  remote  corners  of  his  parish.  So 
the  earl,  before  meeting  Helen's  father,  had  time  to  hear 
from  other  sources  all  particulars  about  her  marriage — at 
least  all  that  were  known  to  the  little  world  of  Cairn- 
forth. 

The  minister  himself  had  scarcely  more  to  communi- 
cate, except  the  fact,  of  which  he  seemed  perfectly  cer- 
tain, that  her  absence  would  not  exceed  six  months,  when 
Captain  Bruce  had  faithfully  promised  to  come  back  and 
live  upon  his  half  pay  in  the  little  peninsula.  Otherwise 
Mr.  Cardross  was  confident  his  "  dear  lassie"  would  never 
have  left  her  father  for  any  man  alive. 

It  was  a  marriage,  externally,  both  natural  and  suita- 
ble ;  the  young  couple  being  of  equal  age  and  circum- 
stances, and  withal  tolerably  well  acquainted  with  one  an- 
other, for  it  appeared  the  captain  had  begun  daily  visits 
to  the  Manse  from  the  very  day  of  Lord  Cairnforth's  de: 
parture. 

"And  he  always  spoke  so  warmly  of  you,  expressed 
such  gratitude  toward  you,  such  admiration  of  you — I 
think  it  was  that  which  won  Helen's  heart.  And  when 
he  did  ask  her  to  marry  him,  she  would  not  accept  him 


180  A  Noble  Life. 

for  a  good  while,  not  till  after  he  had  seen  you  in  Edin- 
burg." 

"Seen  me  in  Edinburg!"  repeated  the  earl,  amazed^ 
and  then  suddenly  stopped  himself.  It  was  necessary  for 
Helen's  sake,  for  every  body's  sake,  to  be  cautious  over 
every  word  he  said;  to  arrive  at  full  confirmation  of  his 
suspicions  before  he  put  into  the  poor  father's  heart  one 
doubt  that  Helen's  marriage  was  not  as  happy  or  as  hon- 
orable as  the  minister  evidently  believed  it  to  be. 

"  He  told  us  you  seemed  so  well,"  continued  Mr.  Card- 
ross;  "that  you  were  in  the  very  whirl  of  Edinburg  so- 
ciety, and  delighted  in  it ;  that  you  had  said  to  him  that 
nothing  could  be  more  to  your  mind  than  this  marriage, 
and  that  if  it  could  be  carried  out  without  waiting  for 
your  return,  which  was  so  very  uncertain,  you  would  be 
all  the  happier.  Was  not  that  true  ?" 

"  No,"  said  the  earl. 

"You  wish  she  had  waited  till  your  return?" 

"Yes." 

The  minister  looked  sorry ;  but  still  he  evidently  had 
not  the  slightest  suspicion  that  aught  was  amiss. 

"  You  must  forgive  my  girl,"  said  he.  "  She  meant  no 
disrespect  to  her  dear  old  friend;  but  messages  are  so 
easily  misconstrued.  And  then,  you  see,  a  lover's  impa- 
tience must  be  considered.  We  must  excuse  Captain 
Bruce,  I  think.  No  wonder  he  was  eager  to  get  our 
Helen." 

And  the  old  man  smiled  rather  sadly,  and  looked  wist 
fully  round  the  Manse  parlor,  whence  the  familiar  pres- 
ence had  gone,  and  yet  seemed  lingering  still — in  her 
flower-stand,  her  little  table,  her  work-basket;  for  Mr 


A  Noble  Life.  181 

Cardross  would  not  have  a  single  article  moved.  "  She 
will  like  to  see  them  all  when  she  comes  back  again,'* 
said  he. 

"And  you — were  you  quite  satisfied  with  the  mar« 
riage?"  asked  the  earl,  making  his  question  and  the  tone 
of  it  as  commonplace  and  cautious  as  he  could. 

"  Why  not  ?  Helen  loved  him,  and  I  loved  Helen. 
Besides,  my  own  married  life  was  so  happy ;  God  forbid 
I  should  grudge  any  happiness  to  my  children.  I  knew 
nothing  but  good  of  the  lad ;  and  you  liked  him  too ; 
Helen  told  me  you  had  specially  charged  her,  if  ever  she 
had  an  opportunity,  to  be  kind  to  him." 

Lord  Cairnforth  almost  groaned. 

"  Captain  Bruce  declared  you  must  have  said  it  be- 
cause you  knew  of  his  attachment,  which  he  had  not  had 
courage  to  express  before,  but  had  rather  appeared  to 
slight  her,  to  hide  his  real  feelings,  until  he  was  assured 
of  your  consent." 

The  earl  listened,  utterly  struck  dumb.  The  lies  were 
so  plausible,  so  systematic,  so  ingeniously  fitted  together, 
that  he  could  almost  have  deluded  himself  into  suppos- 
ing them  truth.  No  wonder,  then,  that  they  had  deluded 
simple  Helen,  and  her  even  simpler  and  more  unworldly 
father. 

And  now  the  cruel  question  presented  itself,  how  fai 
the  father  was  to  be  undeceived  ? 

The  earl  was,  both  by  nature  and  circumstances,  a  re 
served  character ;  that  is,  he  did  not  believe  in  the  duty 
of  every  body  to  tell  out  every  thing.  Helen  often  ar- 
gued with  him,  and  even  laughed  at  him,  for  this ; 'but  he 
only  smiled  silently,  and  held  to  his  own  opinion,  taught 


182  A.  Noble  Life. 

by  experience.  He  knew  well  that  her  life  —  her  free, 
open<  naPPJ  life>  was  not  like  his  life,  and  never  could  be. 
She  had  yet  to  learn  that  bitter  but  salutary  self-restraint, 
which,  if  it  has  to  suffer,  often  for  others'  sake  as  well  as 
for  its  own,  prefers  to  suffer  alone. 

But  Lord  Cairnforth  had  learned  this  to  the  full. 
Otherwise,  as  he  sat  in  the  Manse  parlor,  listening  pa- 
tiently to  Helen's  father,  and  in  the  newness  and  sudden- 
ness of  her  loss,  and  the  strong  delusion  of  his  own  fond 
fancy,  imagining  every  minute  he  heard  her  step  on  the 
stair  and  her  voice  in  the  hall,  he  must  have  utterly  bro- 
ken down. 

He  did  not  do  so.  He  maintained  his  righteous  con 
cealment,  his  noble  deceit — if  that  was  deceit  which  con* 
sisted  only  in  silence  —  to  the  very  last;  spending  the 
whole  evening  with  Mr.  Cardross,  and  quitting  him  with- 
out having  betrayed  a  word  of  what  he  dreaded  —  what 
he  was  almost  sure  of. 

Though  the  marriage  might  be,  and  no  doubt  was,  a 
perfectly  legal  and  creditable  marriage  in  the  eye  of  the 
world,  still,  in  the  eyes  of  honest  men,  it  would  be  deemed 
altogether  unworthy  and  unfortunate,  and  he  knew  the 
minister  would  think  it  so.  How  could  he  tell  the  poor 
old  father,  who  had  so  generously  given  up  his  only 
daughter  for  the  one  simple  reason — sufficient  reason  for 
any  righteous  marriage  —  "Helen  loved  him,"  that  his 
new  son-in-law  was  proved  by  proof  irresistible  to  be  a 
deliberate  liar,  a  selfish,  scheming,  mercenary  knave  ? 

So,  under  this  heavy  responsibility,  Lord  Cairnforth 
decided  to  do  what,  in  minor  matters,  he  had  often  no- 
ticed Helen  do  toward  her  gentle  and  easily-wounded  fa- 


A  Noble  Life.  183 

ther — to  lay  upon  him  no  burdens  greater  than  he  could 
bear,  but  to  bear  them  herself  for  him.  And  in  this  in- 
stance the  earl's  only  means  of  so  doing,  for  the  present 
tit  least,  was  by  taking  refuge  in  that  last  haven  of  wound- 
ed love  and  cruel  suffering — silence. 

The  earl  determined  to  maintain  a  silence  unbroken  as 
the  grave  regarding  all  the  past,  and  his  own  relations 
with  Captain  Bruce — that  is,  until  he  saw  the  necessity 
for  doing  otherwise. 

One  thing,  however,  smote  his  heart  with  a  sore  pang, 
which,  after  a  week  or  so,  he  could  not  entirely  conceal 
from  Mr.  Cardross,  Had  Helen  left  him  —  him,  her 
friend  from  childhood — no  message,  no  letter  ?  Had  her 
happy  love  so  completely  blotted  out  old  ties  that  she 
could  go  away  without  one  word  of  farewell  to  him  ? 

The  minister  thought  not.  He  was  sure  she  had  writ- 
ten ;  she  had  said  she  should,  the  night  before  her  mar- 
riage, and  he  had  heard  her  moving  about  in  her  room, 
and  even  sobbing,  he  fancied,  long  after  the  house  was 
gone  to  rest.  Nay,  he  felt  sure  he  had  seen  her  on  her 
wedding  morning  give  a  letter  to  Captain  Bruce,  saying 
"it  was  to  be  posted  to  Edinburg." 

"  Where,  you  know,  we  all  believed  you.  then  were, 
and  would  remain  for  some  time.  Otherwise  I  am  sure 
my  child  would  have  waited,  that  you  might  have  been 
present  at  her  marriage.  And  to  think  you  should  have 
come  back  the  very  next  day  I  She  will  be  so  sorry  I" 

"Do  you  think  so?"  said  the  earl,  sadly,  and  said  no 
more. 

But,  on  his  return  to  the  Castle,  he  saw  lying  on  his 
study-table  a  letter,  in  the  round,  firm,  rather  boyish 


184  A  Noble  Life. 

hand,  familiar  to  him  as  that  of  his  faithful  amanuensis 
of  many  years. 

"It's  surely  frae  Miss  Helen — Mrs. Bruce  that  is,"  said 
Malcolm,  lifting  it.  "But  folk  in  love  are  less  mindfu.' 
than  ordinar.  She's  directed  it  to  Charlotte  Square, 
Edinburg,  and  then  carried  it  up  to  London  wi'  hersel', 
and  some  other  body,  the  captain,  I  think,  has  redirected 
it  to  Cairnforth  Castle." 

"No  remarks,  Malcolm,"  interrupted  the  earl,  with  un- 
wonted sharpness.  "  Break  the  seal,  and  lay  the  letter 
so  that  I  can  read  it.  Then  you  may  go." 

But,  when  his  servant  had  gone,  he  closed  his  eyes  in 
utter  hopelessness  of  dejection,  for  he  saw  how  complete- 
ly Helen  had  been  deceived. 

Her  letter  ran  thus  —  her  poor,  innocent  letter — dated 
ever  so  long  ago — indeed,  the  time  when  she  had  told 
her  father  she  should  write  —  the  night  before  her  mar- 
riage-day : 

"  MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — I  am  very  busy,  but  have  striv- 
en hard  to  find  an  hour  in  which  to  write  to  you,  for  I 
do  not  think  people  forget  their  friends  because  they 
have  gotten  other  people  to  be  mindful  of  too.  I  think 
-,  a  good  and  happy  love  only  makes  other  loves  feel  closer 
and  dearer.  I  am  sure  I  have  been  greeting  like  a  bairn, 
twenty  times  a  day,  ever  since  I  knew  I  was  to  be  mar- 
ried, whenever  I  called  to  mind  you  and  my  dear  father. 
You  will  be  very  good  to  him  while  I  am  away  ?  but  I 
need  not  ask  you  that.  Six  months,  he  says — I  mean 
Captain  Bruce — will,  according  to  the  Edinburg  doctor's 
advice,  set  up  his  health  entirely,  if  he  travels  about  in 


A  Nolle  Life.  185 

a  warm  climate ;  and,  therefore,  by  June,  your  birthday, 
we  are  sure  to  be  back  in  dear  old  Cairnforth,  to  live 
there  for  the  rest  of  our  days,  for  he  declares  he  likes  no 
other  place  half  so  well. 

"  I  am  right  to  go  with  him  for  these  six  months — am 
I  not?  But  I  need  not  ask ;  you  sent  me  word  so  your- 
self. He  had  nobody  to  take  care  of  him  —  nobody  in 
the  world  but  me.  His  sisters  are  gay,  lively  girls,  he 
says,  and  he  has  been  so  long  abroad  that  they  are  al- 
most strangers.  He  tells  me  I  might  as  well  send  him 
away  to  die  at  once,  unless  I  went  with  him  as  his  wife. 
So  I  go. 

"  I  hope  he  will  come  home  quite  strong  and  well,  and 
able  to  begin  building  our  cottage  on  that  wee  bit  of 
ground  on  the  hill-side  above  Cairnforth  which  you  have 
promised  to  give  to  him.  I  am  inexpressibly  happy 
about  it.  "We  shall  all  live  so  cheerily  together — and 
meet  every  day — the  Castle,  the  Manse,  and  the  Cottage. 
When  I  think  of  that,  and  of  my  coming  back,  I  am  al- 
most comforted  for  this  sad  going  away  —  leaving  my 
dear  father,  and  the  boys,  and  you. 

"  Papa  has  been  so  good  to  me,  you  do  not  know.  I 
shall  never  forget  it — nor  will  Ernest.  Ernest  thought 
he  would  stand  in  the  way  of  our  marriage,  but  he  did 
not.  He  said  I  must  choose  for  myself,  as  he  had  done 
when  he  married  my  dearest  mother ;  that  I  had  been  a 
good  girl  to  him,  and  a  good  daughter  would  make  a 
good  wife;  also  that  a  good  wife  would  not  cease  to  be 
a  good  daughter  because  she  was  married  —  especially 
living  close  at  hand,  as  we  shall  always  live :  Ernest  has 
promised  it 


186  A  Nolle  Life. 

"Thus,  you  see,  nobody  I  love  will  lose  me  at  all;  nor 
shall  I  forget  them :  I  should  hate  myself  if  it  were  pos- 
sible. I  shall  be  none  the  less  a  daughter  to  my  father 
— none  the  less  a  friend  to  you.  I  will  never,  never  for- 
get you,  my  dear!"  (here  the  writing  became  blurred,  as 
if  large  drops  had  fallen  on  the  paper  while  she  wrote.) 
"  It  is  twelve  o'clock,  and  I  must  bid  you  good-night — 
and  God  bless  you  ever  and  ever !  The  last  time  I  sign 
my  dear  old  name  (except  once)  is  thus  to  you. 
"  Your  faithful  and  loving  friend, 

"HELEN  CARDROSS." 

Thus  she  had  written,  and  thus  he  sat  and  read — these 
two,  who  had  been  and  were  so  very  dear  to  one  another. 
Perhaps  the  good  angels,  who  watch  over  human  lives 
and  human  destinies,  might  have  looked  with  pity  upon 
both. 

As  for  Helen's  father,  and  Helen  herself  too,  if  (as 
some  severe  judges  may  say)  they  erred  in  suffering 
themselves  to  be  thus  easily  deceived— in  believing  a 
man  upon  little  more  than  his  own  testimony,  and  in 
loving  him  as  bad  men  are  sometimes  loved,  under  a 
strong  delusion,  by  even  good  women,  surely  the  errors 
of  unworldliness,  unselfishness,  and  that  large  charity 
which  "thinketh  no  evil"  are  not  so  common  in  this 
world  as  to  be  quite  unpardonable.  Better,  tenfold,  to 
be  sinned  against  than  sinning. 

"Better  trust  all,  and  be  deceived, 

And  weep  that  trust  and  that  deceiving, 
Than  doubt  one  heart  which,  if  believed, 
Had  bless'd  one's  life  with  true  believing.'* 


A  Noble  Life.  187 

Lord  Cairnforth  did  not  think  this  at  the  time,  but  he 
learned  to  do  so  afterward.  He  learned,  when  time 
brought  round  its  divine  amende,  neither  to  reproach 
himself  so  bitterly,  nor  to  blame  others ;  and  he  knew  it 
was  better  to'  accept  any  sad  earthly  lot,  any  cruelty,  de- 
ceit, or  wrong  inflicted  by  others,  than  to  have  been  him- 
self the  evil-doer,  or  to  have  hardened  his  heart  against 
any  living  soul  by  acts  of  causeless  suspicion  or  deliber- 
ate inj  ustice. 

Meanwhile,  the  marriage  was  accomplished.  All  that 
Helen's  fondest  friend  could  do  was  to  sit  and  watcji  the 
event  of  things,  as  the  earl  determined  to  watch — silent- 
ly, but  with  a  vigilance  that  never  slept.  Not  passively 
neither.  He  took  immediate  steps,  by  means  which  his 
large  fortune  and  now  wide  connection  easily  enabled 
him  to  employ,  to  find  out  exactly  the  position  of  Helen's 
husband,  both  his  present  circumstances,  and,  so  far  as 
was  possible,  his  antecedents,  at  home  or  abroad.  For, 
after  the  discovery  of  so  many  atrocious,  deliberate  lies, 
every  fact  that  Captain  Bruce  had  stated  concerning  him- 
self remained  open  to  doubt. 

However,  the  lies  were  apparently  that  sort  of  false- 
hood which  springs  from  a  brilliant  imagination,  a  lax 
conscience,  and  a  ready  tongue — prone  to  say  whatever 
comes  easiest  and  uppermost.  Also,  because  probably 
following  the  not  uncommon  Jesuitical  doctrine  that  the 
end  justifies  the  means,  he  had,  for  whatever  reason  he 
best  knew,  determined  to  marry  Helen  Cardross,  and 
took  his  own  measures  accordingly. 

The  main  facts  of  his  self-told  history  turned  out  to  be 
correct.  He  was  certainly  the  identical  Ernest  Henry 


188  A  Nolle  Life. 

Bruce,  only  surviving  son  of  Colonel  Bruce,  and  had  un* 
doubtedly  been  in  India,  a  captain  in  the  Company's 
service.  His  medals  were  veritable — won  by  creditable 
bravery.  No  absolute  moral  turpitude  could  be  discov- 
ered concerning  him — only  a  careless,  reckless  life ;  an 
utter  indifference  to  debt ;  and  a  convenient  readiness  to 
live  upon  other  people's  money  rather  than  earn  his  own 
— qualities  not  so  rare,  or  so  sharply  judged  in  the  world 
at  large,  as  they  were  likely  to  be  by  the  little  world  of 
innocent,  honest  Cairnforth. 

And  yet  he  was  young — he  had  married  a  good  wife 
— he  might  mend.  At  present,  plain  and  indisputable, 
his  character  stood — good-natured,  kindly — perhaps  not 
even  unlovable — but  destitute  of  the  very  foundations 
of  all  that  constitutes  worth  in  a  man — or  woman  either 
— truthfulness,  independence,  honor,  honesty.  And  he 
was  Helen's  husband  —  Helen,  the  true  and  the  good ; 
the  poor  minister's  daughter,  who  had  been  brought  up 
to  think  that  it  was  better  to  starve  upon  porridge  and 
salt  than  to  owe  any  one  a  halfpenny !  What  sort  of  a 
marriage  could  it  possibly  turn  out  to  be  ? 

To  this  question,  which  Lord  Cairnforth  asked  himself 
continually,  in  an  agony  of  doubt,  no  answer  came — no 
clew  whatsoever,  though,  from  even  the  first  week,  Hel- 
en's letters  reached  the  Manse  as  regularly  as  clock-work. 
But  they  were  jnere  outside  letters — very  sweet  and  lov- 
ing— telling  her  father  every  thing  that  could  interest 
him  about  foreign  places,  persons,  and  things ;  only  of 
herself  and  her  own  feelings  saying  almost  nothing.  It 
was  unlikely  she  should :  the  earl  laid  this  comfort  to  his 
soul  twenty  times  a  day.  She  was  married  now;  she 


A  Noble  Life.  189 

could  not  be  expected  to  be  frank  as  in  her  girlhood ; 
still,  this  total  silence,  so  unnatural  to  her  candid  disposi 
tion,  alarmed  him. 

But  there  was  no  resource — no  help.  Into  that  secret 
chamber  which  her  own  hand  thus  barred,  no  other  hand 
could  presume  to  break.  No  one  could  say — ought  to 
say  to  a  wife,  "  Your  husband  is  a  scoundrel." 

And  besides  (to  this  hope  Lord  Cairnforth  clung  with 
a  desperation  heroic  as  bitter),  Captain  Bruce  might  not 
be  an  irredeemable  scoundrel;  and  he  might — there  was 
still  a  chance — have  married  Helen  not  altogether  from 
interested  motives.  She  was  so  lovable  that  he  might 
have  loved  her,  or  have  grown  to  love  her,  even  though 
he  had  slighted  her  at  first. 

"He  must  have  loved  her  —  he  could  not  help  it," 
groaned  the  earl,  inwardly,  when  the  minister  and  others 
stabbed  him  from  time  to  time  with  little  episodes  of  the 
courting  days — the  captain's  devotedness  to  Helen,  and 
Helen's  surprised,  fond  delight  at  being  so  much  "made 
of"  by  the  first  lover  who  had  ever  wooed  her,  and  a 
lover  whom  externally  any  girl  would  have  been  proud 
of.  And  then  the  agonized  cry  of  another  faithful  heart 
went  up  to  heaven — "God  grant  he  may  love  her;  that 
she  may  be  happy — anyhow — any  where  1" 

But  all  this  while,  with  the  almost  morbid  prevision  of 
his  character,  Lord  Cairnforth  took  every  precaution  that 
Helen  should  be  guarded,  as  much  as  was  possible,  in 
case  there  should  befall  her  that  terrible  calamity,  the 
worst  that  can  happen  to  a  woman — of  being  compelled 
to  treat  the  husband  and  father,  the  natural  protector, 
helper,  and  guide  of  herself  and  her  children,  as  not  only 
her  own,  but  their  natural  enemy. 


190  A  Nolle  Life. 

The  earl  did  not  cancel  Helen's  name  from  his  will ;  he 
let  every  thing  stand  as  before  her  marriage ;  but  he  took 
the  most  sedulous  care  to  secure  her  fortune  unalienably 
to  herself  and  her  offspring.  This,  because,  if  Captain 
Bruce  were  honest,  such  precaution  could  not  affect  him 
in  the  least:  man  and  wife  are  one  flesh — settlements 
were  a  mere  form,  which  love  would  only  smile  at,  and 
at  which  any  honorable  man  must  be  rather  glad  of  than 
otherwise,  But  if  her  husband  were  dishonorable,  Helen 
was  made  safe,  so  far  as  worldly  matters  went — safe,  ex- 
cept for  the  grief  from  which,  alas  I  no  human  friend  can 
protect  another — a  broken  heart ! 

Was  her  heart  broken  or  breaking  ? 

The  earl  could  not  tell,  nor  even  guess.  She  left  them 
at  home  not  a  loophole  whereby  to  form  a  conjecture. 
Her  letters  came  regularly,  from  January  until  May, 
dated  from  all  sorts  of  German  towns,  chiefly  gambling 
towns;  but  the  innocent  dwellers  at  Cairnforth  (save  the 
earl)  did  not  know  this  fact.  They  were  sweet,  fond  let- 
ters as  ever — mindful,  with  a  pathetic  minuteness,  of 
every  body  and  every  thing  at  the  dear  old  home ;  but 
not  a  complaint  was  breathed — not  a  murmur  of  regret 
concerning  her  marriage.  She  wrote  very  little  of  her 
husband ;  gradually,  Lord  Cairnforth  fancied,  less  and 
less.  They  had  not  been  to  the  south  of  France,  as  was 
ordered  by  the  physicians,  and  intended.  He  preferred, 
she  said,  these  German  towns,  where  he  met  his  own 
family — his  father  and  sisters.  Of  these,  as  even  the 
minister  himself  at  length  noticed  with  surprise,  Helen 
gave  no  description,  favorable  or  otherwise ;  indeed,  did 
not  say  of  her  husband's  kindred,  beyond  the  bare  fact 
that  she  was  living  with  them,  one  single  word. 


A  Nolle  Life.  191 

Eagerly  the  earl  scanned  her  letters — those  long  letters, 
which  Mr,  Cardross  brought  up  immediately  to  the  Castle, 
and  then  circulated  their  contents  round  the  whole  parish 
with  the  utmost  glee  and  pride,-  for  the  whole  parish  was 
in  its  turn  dying  to  hear  news  of  "Miss  Helen."  Still, 
nothing  could  be  discovered  of  her  real  life  and  feelings. 
And  at  last  her  friend's  fever  of  uneasiness  calmed  down 
a  little ;  he  contented  himself  with  still  keeping  a  con- 
stant watch  over  all  her  movements — speaking  to  no  one, 
trusting  no  one,  except  so  far  as  he  was  obliged  to  trust 
the  old  clerk  who  was  once  sent  down  by  Mr.  Menteith, 
and  who  had  now  come  to  end  his  days  at  Cairnforth,  in 
the  position  of  the  earl's  private  secretary— as  faithful 
and  fond  as  a  dog,  and  as  safely  silent. 

So  wore  the  time  away,  as  it  wears  on  with  all  of  us, 
through  joy  and  sorrow,  absence  or  presence,  with  cheer- 
ful fullness  or  aching  emptiness  of  heart.  It  brought 
spring  back,  and  summer — the  sunshine  to  the  hills,  and 
the  leaves,  and  flowers,  and  birds  to  the  woods;  it  brought 
the  earl's  birthday — kept  festively  as  ever  by  his  people, 
who  loved  him  better  every  year ;  but  it  did  not  bring 
Helen  home  to  Cairnforth. 


tjje  tolffjj. 


LIFE,  when  we  calmly  analyze  it,  is  made  up  to  us  all 
alike  of  three  simple  elements — joy,  sorrow,  and  work. 
Some  of  us  get  tolerably  equal  proportions  of  each  of 
these ;  some  unequal — or  we  fancy  so ;  but,  in  reality,  as 
the  ancient  sage  says  truly,  "  the  same  things  come  alike 
to  all." 

The  Earl  of  Cairnforth,  in  his  imperfect  fragment  of  a 
life, had  had  little  enough  of  enjoyment;  but  he  knew 
how  to  endure  better  than  most  people.  He  had,  how- 
ever, still  to  learn  that  existence  is  not  wholly  endurance ; 
that  a  complete  human  life  must  have  in  it  not  only  sub- 
mission, but  resistance ;  the  fighting  against  evil  and  in 
defense  of  good ;  the  struggle  with  divine  help  to  over- 
come evil  with  good ;  and  finally  the  determination  not 
to  sit  down  tamely  to  misery,  but  to  strive  after  happi- 
ness—  lawful  happiness,  both  for  ourselves  and  others. 
In  short,  not  only  passively  to  accept  joy  or  grief,  but  to 
take  means  to  secure  the  one  and  escape  the  other;  to 
"  work  out  our  own  salvation"  for  each  day,  as  we  are 
told  to  do  it  for  an  eternity,  though  with  the  same  divine 
limitation — humbling  to  all  pride,  and  yet  encouraging  to 
ceaseless  effort — "  for  it  is  GOD  that  worketh  in  us  both 
to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good  pleasure." 

That  self-absorption  of  loss,  which  follows  all  great  an- 
guish ;  that  shrinking  up  unto  one's  self,  which  is  the 


196  A  Nolle  Life. 

first  and  most  natural  instinct  of  a  creature  smitten  witu 
a  sorrow  not  unmingled  with  cruel  wrong,  is,  with  most 
high  natures,  only  temporary.  By-and-by  comes  the 
merciful  touch  which  says  to  the  lame,  "Arise  and 
walk;"  to  the  sick,  "Take  up  thy  bed  and  go  into  thine 
house."  And  the  whisper  of  peace  is,  almost  invariably, 
a  whisper  of  labor  and  effort :  there  is  not  only  some- 
thing to  be  suffered,  but  something  to  be  done. 

With  the  earl  this  state  was  longer  in  coming,  because 
the  prior  collapse  did  not  come  to  him  at  once.  The  ex- 
citement of  perpetual  expectation  —  the  preparing  for 
some  catastrophe,  which  he  felt  sure  was  to  follow,  and 
the  incessant  labor  entailed  by  his  wide  inquiries,  in 
which  he  had  no  confidant  but  Mr.  Mearns,  the  clerk, 
and  him  he  trusted  as  little  as  possible,  lest  any  suspicion 
or  disgrace  should  fall  upon  Helen's  husband — all  this 
kept  him  in  a  state  of  unnatural  activity  and  strength. 

But  when  the  need  for  action  died  away ;  when  Hel- 
en's letters  betrayed  nothing ;  and  when,  though  she  did 
not  return,  and  while  expressing  most  bitter  regret,  yet 
gave  sufficiently  valid  reasons  for  not  returning  in  her 
husband's  still  delicate  health — after  June,  Lord  Cairn- 
forth  fell  into  a  condition,  less  of  physical  than  mental 
sickness,  which  lasted  a  long  time,  and  was  very  painful 
to  himself,  as  well  as  to  those  that  loved  him.  He  was 
not  ill,  but  his  usual  amount  of  strength — so  small  al- 
ways— became  much  reduced;  neither  was  he  exactly 
irritable — his  sweet  temper  never  could  sink  into  irrita- 
bility; but  he  was,  as  Malcolm  expressed  it,  "dour;" 
difficult  to  please ;  easily  fretted  about  trifles ;  inclined 
to  take  sad  and  cynical  views  of  things. 


A  Nolle  Life.  197 

This  might  hnvc  been  increased  by  certain  discover- 
ies, which,  during  the  summer,  when  he  came  to  look 
into  his  affairs,  Lord  Cairnforth  made.  He  found  that 
money  which  he  had  intrusted  to  Captain  Bruce  for  va- 
rious purposes  had  been  appropriated,  or  misappropria- 
ted, in  different  ways — conduct  scarcely  exposing  the 
young  man  to  legal  investigation,  and  capable  of  being 
explained  away  as  "carelessness"  —  "unpunctuality  in 
money  matters" — and  so  on,  but  conduct  of  which  no 
strictly  upright,  honorable  person  would  ever  have  been 
guilty.  This  fact  accounted  for  another — the  captain's 
having  expressed  ardent  gratitude  for  a  sum  which  he 
said  the  earl  had  given  him  for  his  journey  and  marriage 
expenses,  which,  though  Mr.  Oardross's  independent  spirit 
rather  revolted  from  the  gift,  at  least  satisfied  him  about 
Helen's  comfort  during  her  temporary  absence.  And 
once  more,  for  Helen's  sake,  the  earl  kept  silence.  But 
he  felt  as  if  every  good  and  tender  impulse  of  his  nature 
were  hardening  into  stone. 

Hardened  at  the  core  Lord  Cairnforth  could  never  be; 
no  man  can  whose  heart  has  once  admitted  into  its  deep- 
est sanctuary  the  love  of  One  who,  when  all  human  loves 
fail,  still  whispers,  "  We  will  come  in  unto  him,  and 
make  our  abode  with  him" — ay,  be  it  the  forlornest  bod- 
ily tabernacle  in  which  immortal  soul  ever  dwelt.  But 
there  came  an  outer  crust  of  hardness  over  his  nature 
which  was  years  before  it  quite  melted  away.  Common 
observers  might  not  perceive  it — Mr.  Cardross  even  did 
not ;  still  it  was  there. 

The  thing  was  inevitable.  Right  or  wrong,  deservedly 
or  undeservedly,  most  of  us  have  at  different  crises  of 


198  A  Nolle  Life. 

our  lives  known  this  feeling — the  bitter  sense  of  being 
wronged ;  of  having  opened  one's  heart  to  the  sunshine, 
and  had  it  all  blighted  and  blackened  with  frost ;  of  hav- 
ing laid  one's  self  down  in  a  passion  of  devotedncss  for 
beloved  feet  to  walk  upon,  and  been  trampled  upon,  and 
beaten  down  to  the  dust.  And  as  months  slipped  by, 
and  there  came  no  Helen,  this  feeling,  even  against  his 
will  and  his  conscience,  grew  very  much  upon  Lord 
Cairnforth.  In  time  it  might  have  changed  him  to  a 
bitter,  suspicious,  disappointed  cynic,  had  there  not  also 
come  to  him,  with  strong  conviction,  one  truth — a  truth 
preached  on  the  shores  of  Galilee  eighteen  hundred  years 
ago — the  only  truth  that  can  save  the  wronged  heart 
from  breaking — that  he  who  gives  away  only  a  cup  of 
cold  water  shall  in  no  wise  lose  his  reward.  Still,  the 
reward  is  not  temporal,  and  is  rarely  reward  in  kind. 
He — and  He  alone — to  whom  the  debt  is  due,  repays  it ; 
not  in  our,  but  in  his  own  way.  One  only  consolation 
remains  to  the  sufferers  from  ingratitude,  but  that  one  is 
all-sufficing:  "Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  the 
least  of  these  little  ones,  ye  have  done  it  unto  Me." 

All  autumn,  winter,  and  during  another  spring  and 
summer,  Helen's  letters — most  fond,  regular,  and  (to  her 
father)  satisfactory  letters — contained  incessant  and  eager 
hopes  of  return,  which  were  never  fulfilled.  And  gradu- 
ally she  ceased  to  give  any  reason  for  their  non-fulfill- 
ment, simply  saying,  with  a  sad  brevity  of  silence,  which 
one,  at  least,  of  her  friends  knew  how  to  comprehend  and 
appreciate,  that  her  coming  home  at  present  was  "im- 
possible." 

"It's  very  true,"  said  the  good  minister,  disappointed 


A  Nolle  Life.  199 

as  he  was:  "  a  man  must  cleave  to  his  wife,  and  a  wom- 
an to  her  husband.  I  suppose  the  captain  finds  himself 
better  in  warm  countries — he  always  said  so.  My  bairn 
will  come  back  when  she  can — I  know  she  will.  And 
the  boys  are  very  good — specially  Duncan." 

For  Mr.  Cardross  had  now,  he  thought,  discovered 
germs  of  ability  in  his  youngest  boy,  and  was  concentrat- 
ing all  his  powers  in  educating  him  for  college  and  the 
ministry.  This,  and  his  growing  absorption  in  his  books, 
reconciled  him  more  than  might  have  been  expected  to 
his  daughter's  absence;  or  else  the  inevitable  necessity 
of  things,  which,  as  we  advance  in  years,  becomes  so 
strange  and  consoling  an  influence  over  us,  was  working 
slowly  upon  the  good  old  minister.  He  did  not  seem 
heart-broken  or  even  heart-wounded — he  did  his  parish 
work  with  unfailing  diligence ;  but  as,  Sunday  after  Sun- 
day, he  passed  from  the  Manse  garden  through  the  kirk- 
yard,  where,  green  and  moss-covered  now,  was  the  one 
white  stone  which  bore  the  name  of  "  Helen  Lindsay, 
wife  of  the  Eeverend  Alexander  Cardross,"  he  was  often 
seen  to  glance  at  it  less  sorrowfully  than  smilingly.  Year 
by  year,  the  world  and  its  cares  were  lessening  and  slip- 
ping away  from  him,  as  they  had  long  since  slipped  from 
her  who  once  shared  them  all.  She  now  waited  for  him 
in  that  eternal  reunion  which  the  marriage  union  teaches, 
as  perhaps  none  other  can,  to  realize  as  a  living  fact  and 
natural  necessity. 

But  it  was  different  with  the  earl.  Sometimes,  in  an 
agony  of  bitterness,  he  caught  himself  blaming  her — 
Helen — whom  her  old  father  never  blamed;  wondering 

7  O 

how  much  she  had  found  out  of  her  husband's  conduct 


200  A  Nolle  Life. 

and  character;  speculating  whether  it  was  possible  to 
I  touch  pitch  and  not  be  defiled ;  and  whether  the  wife  of 
Captain  Bruce  had  become  in  any  way  different  from, 
and  inferior  to,  innocent  Helen  Cardross. 

Lord  Cairnforth  had  never  answered  her  letter — he 
could  not,  without  being  a  complete  hypocrite ;  and  she 
had  not  written  again.  He  did  not  expect  it — scarcely 
wished  it — and  yet  the  blank  was  sore.  More  and  more 
he  withdrew  from  all  but  necessary  associations,  shutting 
himself  up  in  the  Castle  for  weeks  together  —  neither 
reading,  nor  talking  much  to  any  one,  but  sitting  quite 
still — he  always  sat  quite  still — by  the  fireside  in  his  lit- 
tle chair.  He  felt  creeping  over  him  that  deadness  to 
external  things  which  makes  pain  itself  seem  compara- 
tively almost  sweet.  Once  he  was  heard  to  say,  looking 
wistfully  at  Mrs.  Campbell,  who  had  been  telling  him, 
with  many  tears,  of  a  "  freend  o'  hers"  who  had  just  died 
down  at  the  clachan,  "  Nurse,  I  wish  I  could  greet  like 

you." 

The  first  thing  which  broke  up  in  his  heart  this  bitter, 
blighting  frost  was,  as  so  often  happens,  the  sharp-edged 
blow  of  a  new  trouble. 

He  had  not  been  at  the  Manse  for  two  or  three  weeks, 
and  had  not  even  heard  of  the  family  for  several  clays, 
when,  looking  up  from  his  seat  in  church,  he  was  startled 
by  the  apparition  of  an  unfamiliar  face  in  the  pulpit — a 
voluble,  flowery-tongued,  foolish  young  assistant,  evident- 
ly caught  haphazard  to  fill  the  place  which  Mr.  Cardross, 
during  a  long  term  of  years,  had  never  vacated,  except 
at  communion  seasons.  It  gave  his  faithful  friend  and 
pupil  a  sensation  almost  of  pain  to  see  any  new  figure 


A  Noble  Life.  201 

there,  and  not  the  dear  old  minister's,  with  his  long  white 
hair,  his  earnest  manner,  and  his  simple,  short  sermon. 
Shorter  and  simpler  the  older  he  grew,  till  he  often  de- 
clared he  should  end  by  preaching  like  the  beloved  apos- 
tle John,  who,  tradition  says,  in  his  latter  days,  did  noth- 
ing but  repeat,  over  and  over  again,  to  all  around  him,  his 
one  exhortation — he,  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved — 
"  Little  children,  love  one  another." 

On  inquiry  after  service,  the  earl  found  that  Mr.  Card- 
ross  had  been  ailing  all  week,  and  had  had  on  Saturday 
to  procure  in  haste  this  substitute.  But,  on  going  to  the 
Manse,  the  earl  found  him  much  as  usual,  only  complain- 
ing of  a  numbness  in  his  arm. 

"And,"  he  said,  with  a  composure  very  different  from 
his  usual  nervousness  about  the  slightest  ailment,  "  now 
I  remember,  my  mother  died  of  paralysis.  I  wish  Helen 
would  come  home." 

"  Shall  she  be  sent  for?"  suggested  Lord  Cairnforth. 

"Oh  no  —  not  the  least  necessity.  Besides,  she  says 
she  is  coming." 

"  She  has  long  said  that." 

"But  now  she  is  determined  to  make  the  strongest  ef- 
fort to  be  with  us  at  the  New  Year.  Eead  her  letter — it 
came  yesterday ;  a  week  later  than  usual.  I  should  have 
sent  it  up  to  the  Castle,  for  it  troubled  me  a  little,  espe- 
cially the  postscript ;  can  you  make  it  out  ?  part  of  it  is 
under  the  seal.  It  is  in  answer  to  what  I  told  her  of 
Duncan ;  he  was  always  her  pet,  you  know.  How  she 
used  to  carry  him  about  the  garden,  even  when  he  grew 
quite  a  big  boy !  Poor  Helen !"  i 

While  the  minister  went  on  talking,  feebly  and  wan- 
12 


202  A  Nobk  Life. 

deringly,  in  a  way  that  at  another  time  would  have  struck 
the  earl  as  something  new  and  rather  alarming,  Lord 
Cairnforth  eagerly  read  the  letter.  It  ended  thus  : 

"  Tell  Dunnie  I  am.  awfully  glad  he  is  to  be  a  minister. 
I  hope  all  my  brothers  will  settle  down  in  dear  old  Scot- 
land, work  hard,  and  pay  their  way  like  honest  men. 
And  bid  them,  as  soon  as  ever  they  can,  to  marry  honest 
women  —  good,  loving  Scotch  lassies  —  no  fremd  folk. 
Tell  them  never  to  fear  for  '  poortith  cauld,'  as  Mr.  Burns 
wrote  about ;  it's  easy  to  bear,  when  it's  honest  poverty. 
I  would  rather  see  my  five  brothers  living  on  porridge 
and  milk — wives,  and  weans,  and  all — than  see  them  like 
these  foreigners,  counts,  barons,  and  princes  though  they 
be.  Father,  I  hate  them  all.  And  I  mind  always  the 
way  I  was  brought  up,  and  that  I  was  once  a  minister's 
daughter  in  dear  and  bonnie  Cairnforth." 

"What  can  she  mean  by  that?"  said  Mr.  Cardross, 
watching  anxiously  the  earl's  countenance  as  he  read. 

"  I  suppose,  what  Helen  always  means,  exactly  what 
she  says." 

"That  is  true.  You  know  we  used  always  to  say 
Helen  could  hold  her  tongue,  though  it  wasn't  easy  to 
her,  the  dear  lassie ;  but  she  could  not  say  what  was  not 
the  fact,  nor  even  give  the  impression  of  it.  Therefore, 
if  she  were  unhappy,  she  would  have  told  me?" 

This  was  meant  as  a  question,  but  it  gained  no  answer. 

"Surely,"  entreated  the  father,  anxiously,  "surely  you 
do  not  think  the  lassie  is  unhappy?" 

"  This^is  not  a  very  happy  world,"  said  the  earl,  sadly. 
"  But  I  do  believe  that  if  any  thing  had  been  seriously 
wrong  with  her  Helen  would  have  told  us." 


A  Noble  Life.  203 

lie  spoke  bis  real  belief.  But  he  did  not  speak  of  a 
dread  far  deeper,  which  had  sometimes  occurred  to  him, 
but  which  that  sad  and  even  bitter  postscript  now  re- 
moved, that  circumstances  could  change  character,  and 
that  Helen  Cardross  and  Helen  Bruce  were  two  different 
women. 

As  he  went  home,  having  arranged  to  come  daily  ev- 
ery forenoon  to  sit  with  the  minister,  and  to  read  a  little 
Greek  with  Duncan,  lest  the  lad's  studies  should  be  in- 
terrupted, he  decided  that,  in  her  father's  state,  which  ap- 
peared to  him  the  more  serious  the  longer  he  considered 
it,  it  was  right  Helen  should  come  home,  and  somebody, 
not  Mr.  Cardross,  ought  to  urge  it  upon  her.  He  de- 
termined to  do  this  himself.  And,  lest  means  should  be 
wanting — though  of  this  he  had  no  reason  to  fear,  his 
information  from  all  quarters  having  always  been  that 
the  Bruce  family  lived  more  than  well — luxuriously — 
he  resolved  to  offer  a  gift  with  which  he  had  not  before 
dared  to  think  of  insulting  independent  Helen — money. 

With  difficulty  and  pains,  not  intrusting  this  secret  to 
even  his  faithful  secretary,  he  himself  wrote  a  few  lines, 
in  his  own  feeble,  shaky  hand,  telling  her  exactly  how 
things  were;  suggesting  her  coming  home,  and  inclosing 
wherewithal  to  do  it,  from  "  her  affectionate  old  friend 
and  cousin,"  from  whom  she  need  not  hesitate  to  accept 
any  thing.  But  though  he  carefully,  after  long  consid- 
eration, signed  himself  her  "cousin,"  he  did  not  once 
name  Captain  Bruce.  He  could  not. 

This  done,  he  waited  day  after  day,  till  every  chance 
of  Helen's  not  having  had  time  to  reply  was  long  over, 
and  still  no  answer  came.  That  the  letter  had  been  re- 


204  A  Noble  Life. 

ceived  was  more  than  probable,  almost  certain.  Every 
possible  interpretation  that  common  sense  allowed  Lord 
Cairnforth  gave  to  her  silence,  and  all  failed.  Then  he 
let  the  question  rest.  To  distrust  her,  Helen,  his  one  pure 
image  of  perfection,  was  impossible.  He  felt  it  would 
have  killed  him — not  his  outer  life,  perhaps,  but  the  life 
of  his  heart,  his  belief  in  human  goodness. 

So  he  still  waited,  nor  judged  her  either  as  daughter  or 
friend,  but  contented  himself  with  doing  her  apparently 
neglected  duty  for  her — making  himself  an  elder  brother 
to  Duncan,  and  a  son  to  the  minister,  and  never  missing 
a  day  without  spending  some  hours  at  the  Manse. 

For  almost  the  first  time  since  her  departure,  Helen's 
regular  monthly  letter  did  not  arrive,  and  then  the  earl 
grew  seriously  alarmed.  In  the  utmost  perplexity,  he 
was  resolving  in  his  own  mind  what  next  step  to  take — 
how,  and  how  much  he  ought  to  tell  of  his  anxieties  to 
her  father — when  all  difficulties  were  solved  in  the  sharp- 
est and  yet  easiest  way  by  a  letter  from  Helen  herself — 
a  letter  so  unlike  Helen's,  so  un-neat,  blurred,  and  blot- 
ted, that  at  first  he  did  not  even  recognize  it  as  hers. 

"  To  the  Right  Honorable  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth  : 
"  MY  LORD, — I  have  only  just  found  your  letter.  The 
money  inclosed  was  not  there.  I  conclude  it  had  been 
used  for  our  journey  hither;  but  it  is  gone,  and  I  can  not 
come  to  my  dearest  father.  My  husband  is  very  ill,  and 
my  little  baby  only  three  weeks  old.  Tell  my  father 
this,  and  send  me  news  of  him  soon.  Help  me,  for  I  am 
almost  beside  myself  with  misery ! 

"  Yours  gratefully,  HELEN  BRUCE. 

" Street,  Eclinburg." 


A  Noble  Life.  205 

Edinburg !     Then  she  was  come  home ! 

The  earl  had  opened  and  read  the  letter  with  his  sec- 
retary sitting  by  him.  Yet,  dull  and  not  prone  to  notice 
things  as  the  old  man  was,  he  was  struck  by  an  unusual 
tone  of  something  very  like  exultation  in  his  master's 
voice  as  he  said, 

"  Mr.  Mearns,  call  Malcolm  to  me ;  I  must  start  for 
Edinburg  immediately." 

In  the  interval  Lord  Cairnforth  thought  rapidly  over 
what  was  best  to  be  done.  To  go  at  once  to  Helen,  what- 
ever her  misery  was,  appeared  to  him  beyond  question. 
To  take  Mr.  Cardross  in  his  present  state,  or  the  lad  Dun- 
can, was  not  desirable :  some  people,  good  as  they  may 
be,  are  not  the  sort  of  people  to  be  trusted  in  calamity. 
And  Helen's  other  brothers  were  out  and  away  in  the 
world,  scattered  all  over  Scotland,  earning,  diligently  and 
hardly,  their  daily  bread. 

There  was  evidently  not  a  soul  to  go  to  her  help  ex- 
cept himself.  Her  brief  and  formal  letter,  breaking  down 
into  that  piteous  cry  of  "help  me,"  seemed  to  come  out 
of  the  very  depths  of  despair.  It  pierced  to  the  core  of 
Lord  Cairnforth's  heart ;  and  yet — and  yet — he  felt  that 
strange  sense  of  exultation  and  delight. 

Even  Malcolm  noticed  this. 

"Your  lordship  has  gotten  gude  news,"  said  he.  "Is 
it  about  Miss  Helen  ?  She's  coming  hame?" 

"  Yes.  We  must  start  for  Edinburg  at  once,  and  we'll 
bring  her  back  with  us."  He  forgot  for  the  moment  the 
sick  husband,  the  newborn  baby — every  thing  but  Helen 
herself  and  her  being  close  at  hand.  "  It's  only  forty- 
eight  hours  journey  to  Edinburg  now.  We  will  travel 


206  A  Nobk  Life. 

post;  I  am  strong  enough,  Malcolm ;  set  about  it  quick- 
ly, for  it  must  be  done." 

Malcolm  knew  his  master  too  well  to  remonstrate.  In 
truth,  the  whole  household  was  so  bewildered  by  this 
sudden  exploit  —  for  the  wheels  of  life  moved  slowly 
enough  ordinarily  at  Cairnforth — that  before  any  body 
was  quite  aware  what  had  happened,  the  earl  and  his  two 
necessary  attendants,  Malcolm  and  Mr.  Mearns — also  Mrs. 
Campbell — Helen  might  want  a  woman  with  her — were 
traveling  across  country  as  fast  as  the  only  fast  traveling 
of  that  era — relays  of  post-horses  day  and  night — could 
carry  them. 

Lord  Cairnforth,  after  much  thought,  left  Helen's  letter 
behind  with  Duncan  Cardross,  charging  him  to  break  the 
tidings  gradually  to  the  minister,  and  tell  him  that  he 
himself  was  then  traveling  to  Edinburg  with  all  the  speed 
that,  in  those  days,  money,  and  money  alone,  could  pro- 
cure. Oh,  how  he  felt  the  blessing  of  riches !  Now, 
whatever  her  circumstances  were,  or  might  have  been 
once,  misery,  poverty,  could  never  afflict  Helen  more. 
He  was  quite  determined  that  from  the  time  he  brought 
them  home,  his  cousin  and  his  cousin's  wife  should  in- 
habit Cairnforth  Castle ;  that,  whether  Captain  Bruce's 
life  proved  to  be  long  or  short,  worthy  or  unworthy,  he 
should  be  borne  with,  and  forgiven  every  thing — for  Hel- 
en's sake. 

All  the  journey — sleeping  or  waking,  day  or  night — 
Lord  Cairnforth  arranged  or  dreamed  over  his  plans,  un- 
til at  ten  o'clock  the  second  night  he  found  himself  driv- 
ing along  the  familiar  Princes  Street,  with  the  grim  Cas- 
tle rock  standing  dark  against  the  moonlight;  while  be- 


A  Noble  Life.  207 

yond,  on  the  opposite  side  of  what  was  then  a  morass, 
but  is  now  railways  and  gardens,  rose  tier  upon  tier,  like 
a  fairy  palace,  the  glittering  lights  of  the  old  town  of 
Edinburg. 


tlit 


THE  earl  reached  Edinburg  late  at  night.  Mrs.  Camp- 
bell entreated  him  to  go  to  bed,  and  not  seek  out  the 
street  where  the  Braces  lived  till  morning. 

"For  I  ken  the  place  weel,"  said  she,  when  she  heard 
Lord  Cairnforth  inquiring  for  the  address  Helen  had 
given.  "  It's  ane  o'  thae  high  lands  in  the  New  Town — 
a  grand  flat  wi'  a  fine  ha'  door — and  then  ye  gang  up  an' 
up,  till  at  the  top  flat  ye  find  a  bit  nest  like  a  bird's — 
and  the  folk  living  there  are  as  ill  off  as  a  bird  in  winter- 
time." 

The  earl,  weary  as  he  had  been,  raised  his  head  at  this, 
and  spoke  decisively, 

"  Tell  Malcolm  to  fetch  a  coach.  I  will  go  there  to- 
night." 

"Eh !  couldna  ye  bide  till  the  morn?  Ye'll  just  kill 
yoursel,'  my  lamb,"  cried  the  affectionate  woman,  for- 
getting all  her  respect  in  her  affection ;  but  Lord  Cairn- 
forth understood  it,  and  replied  in  the  good  old  Scotch, 
which  he  always  kept  to  warm  his  nurse's  heart, 

"Na,  na,  I'll  no  dee  yet.  Keep  your  heart  content; 
we'll  all  soon  be  safe  back  at  Cairnforth." 

It  seemed,  in  truth,  as  if  an  almost  miraculous  amount 
of  endurance  and  energy  had  been  given  to  that  frail 
body  for  this  hour  of  need.  The  earl's  dark  eyes  were 


212  A  Nolle  Life. 

gleaming  with  light,  and  every  tone  of  his  voice  was 
proud  and  manly,  as  the  strong,  manly  soul,  counteract- 
ing all  physical  infirmities,  rose  up  for  the  protection  of 
the  one  creature  in  all  the  world  who  to  him  bad  been 
most  dear. 

"You'll  order  apartments  in  the  hotel,  nurse.  See 
that  every  thing  is  right  and  comfortable  for  Mrs.  Bruce. 
I  shall  bring  them  back  at  once,  if  I  can,"  was  his  last 
word  as  he  drove  off,  alone  with  Malcolm :  he  wished  to 
have  no  one  with  him  who  could  possibly  be  clone  with- 
out. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  they  stood  at  the  foot  of 
the  high  stair — six  stories  high — and  Captain  Bruce,  they 
learned,  was  inhabiting  the  topmost  flat.  Malcolm  looked 
at  the  earl  uneasily. 

"  The  top  flat !  Miss  Helen  canna  be  vera  well  aff,  I 
doubt.  Will  I  gang  up  and  see,  my  lord?" 

"  No,  I  will  go  myself.     Carry  me,  Malcolm." 

And,  in  the  old  childish  way,  the  big  Highlander  lift- 
ed his  master  up  in  his  arms,  and  carried  him,  flight  after 
flight,  to  the  summit  of  the  long  dark  stair.  It  narrowed 
up  to  a  small  door,  very  mean  and  shabby -looking,  from 
the  keyhole  of  which,  when  Malcolm  hid  his  lantern,  a 
light  was  seen  to  gleam. 

"  They're  no  awa'  to  their  beds  yet,  my  lord.  Will  I 
knock?" 

Lord  Cairnforth  had  no  time  to  reply,  if  indeed  he 
could  have  replied ;  for  Malcolm's  footsteps  had  been 
heard  from  within,  and  opening  the  door  with  an  eager 
"Is  that  you,  doctor?"  there  stood  before  them,  in  her 
very  own  likeness,  Helen  Cardross. 


A  Noble  Life.  213 

At  least  a  woman  like  enough  to  the  former  Helen  to 
leave  no  doubt  it  was  herself.  But  a  casual  acquaint- 
ance would  never  have  recognized  her. 

The  face,  once  so  round  and  rosy,  was  sharp  and  thin ; 
the  cheek-bones  stood  out;  the  bright  complexion  was 
faded ;  the  masses  of  flaxen  curls — her  chief  beauty — 
were  all  gone ;  and  the  thin  hair  was  drawn  up  close  un- 
der a  cap.  Her  dress,  once  the  picture  of  neatness,  was 
neat  still,  but  her  figure  had  become  gaunt  and  coarse, 
and  the  shabby  gown  hung  upon  her  in  forlorn  folds,  as 
if  put  on  carelessly  by  one  who  had  neither  time  nor 
thought  to  give  to  appearances. 

She  was  evidently  sitting  up  watching,  and  alone. 
The  rooms  which  her  door  opened  to  view  were  only 
two,  this  topmost  flat  having  been  divided  in  half,  and 
each  half  made  into  just  "  a  but  and  a  ben,"  and  furnish- 
ed in  the  meanest  fashion  of  lodgings  to  let. 

"Is  it  the  doctor?"  she  said  again,  shading  her  light 
and  peering  down  the  dark  stair. 

"Helen!" 

She  recognized  at  once  the  little  figure  in  Malcolm's 
arms. 

"  You — you !  And  you  have  come  to  me — come  your 
own  self!  Oh,  thank  God !" 

She  leant  against  the  doorway — not  for  weeping ;  she 
looked  like  one  who  had  wept  till  she  could  weep  no 
more,  but  breathing  hard  in  heavy  breaths,  like  sobs. 

"Set  me  down,  Malcolm,  somewhere  —  any  where. 
Then  go  outside." 

Malcolm  obeyed,  finding  a  broken  arm-chair  and  set- 
tling his  master  therein.  Then,  as  he  himself  afterwarcj 


214  A  Noble  Life. 

told  the  story,  though  not  till  many  years  after,  when 
nothing  he  told  about  that  dear  master's  concerns  could 
signify  any  more,  he  "  gaed  awa'  doun  and  grat  like  a 
bairn." 

Lord  Cairnforth  sat  silent,  waiting  till  Helen  had  re- 
covered herself — Helen,  whom,  however  changed,  he 
would  have  known  among  a  thousand.  And  then,  with 
his  quick  observation,  he  took  in  as  much  of  her  circum- 
stances as  was  betrayed  by  the  aspect  of  the  room,  evi- 
dently kitchen,  dining-room,  and  bedroom  in  one ;  for  at 
the  far  end,  close  to  the  door  that  opened  into  the  second 
apartment,  which  seemed  a  mere  closet,  was  one  of  those 
concealed  beds  so  common  in  Scotland,  and  on  it  lay  a 
figure  which  occasionally  stirred,  moaned,  or  coughed, 
but  very  feebly,  and  for  the  most  part  lay  still — very 
still. 

Its  face,  placed  straight  on  the  pillow — and  as  the  fire 
blazed  up,  the  sharp  profile  being  reflected  in  grotesque 
distinctness  on  the  wall  behind — was  a  man's  face,  thin 
and  ghastly,  the  skin  tightly  drawn  over  the  features,  as 
is  seen  in  the  last  stage  of  consumption. 

Lord  Cairnforth  had  never  beheld  death — not  in  any 
form.  But  he  felt,  by  instinct,  that  he  was  looking  upon 
it  now,  or  the  near  approach  to  it,  in  the  man  who  lay 
there,  too  rapidly  passing  into  unconsciousness  even  to 
notice  his  presence — Helen's  husband,  Captain  Bruce. 

The  dreadful  fascination  of  the  sight  drew  his  attention 
even  from  Helen  herself.  He  sat  gazing  at  his  cousin, 
the  man  who  had  deceived  and  wronged  him,  and  not 
him  only,  but  those  dearer  to  him  than  himself— the  man 
whom,  a  day  or  two  ago,  he  had  altogether  hated  and  de- 


A  Noble  Life.  215 

spised.  He  dared  do  neither  now.  A  heavier  hand  than 
that  of  mortal  justice  was  upon  his  enemy.  Whatever 
Captain  Bruce  was,  whatever  he  had  been,  he  was  now 
being  taken  away  from  all  human  judgment  into  the  im- 
mediate presence  of  Him  who  is  at  once  the  Judge  and 
the  Pardoner  of  sinners. 

Awe-struck,  the  earl  sat  and  watched  the  young  man 
(for  he  could  not  be  thirty  yet),  struck  down  thus  in  the 
prime  of  his  days — carried  away  into  the  other  world — 
while  he  himself,  with  his  frail,  flickering  taper  of  a  life, 
remained.  Wherefore?  At  length,  in  a  whisper,  he 
called  "Helen!"  and  she  came  and  knelt  beside  the  earl's 
chair. 

"  Pie  is  fast  going,"  said  she. 

"  I  see  that." 

"In  an  hour  or  two,  the  doctor  said." 

"  Then  I  will  stay,  if  I  may  ?" 

"  Oh  yes." 

Helen  said  it  quite  passively  ,r  indeed,  her  whole  ap- 
pearance as  she  moved  about  the  room,  and  then  took  her 
seat  by  her  husband's  bedside,  indicated  one  who  makes 
no  effort  either  to  express  or  to  restrain  grief — who  has, 
in  truth,  suffered  till  she  can  suffer  no  more. 

The  dying  man  was  not  so  near  death  as  the  doctor 
had  thought,  for  after  a  little  he  fell  into  what  seemed  a 
natural  sleep.  Helen  leant  her  head  against  the  wall  and 
closed  her  eyes.  But  that  instant  was  heard  from  the 
inner  room  a^  cry,  the  like  of  which  Lord  Cairnforth  had 
never  heard  before — the  sharp,  waking  cry  of  a  very 
young  infant. 

In  a  moment  Helen  started  up — her  whole  expression 


216  A  Noble  Life. 

changed ;  and  when,  after  a  short  disappearance,  she  re- 
entered  the  room  with  her  child,  who  had  dropped  con- 
tentedly asleep  again,  nestling  to  her  bosom,  she  was  per- 
fectly  transformed.  No  longer  the  plain,  almost  elderly 
woman  ;  she  had  in  her  poor  worn  face  the  look — which 
makes  any  face  young,  nay,  lovely — the  mother's  look. 
Fate  had  not  been  altogether  cruel  to  her;  it  had  given 
her  a  child. 

i  "Isn't  he  a  bonnie  bairn?"  she  whispered,  as  once 
again  she  knelt  down  by  Lord  Cairnforth's  chair,  and 
brought  the  little  face  down  so  that  he  could  see  it  and 
touch  it.  He  did  touch  it  with  his  feeble  fingers — the 
small  soft  cheek — the  first  baby-cheek  he  had  ever  be- 
held. 

"It  is  a  bonnie  bairn,  as  you  say;  God  bless  it!"  which, 
as  she  afterward  told  him,  was  the  first  blessing  ever 
breathed  over  the  child.  "What  is  its  name?"  he  asked 
by-and-by,  seeing  she  expected  more  notice  taken  of  it. 

"Alexander  Cardross  —  after  my  father.  My  son  is  a 
born  Scotsman  too  —  an  Edinburg  laddie.  We  were 
coming  home,  as  fast  as  we  could,  to  Cairnforth.  He" — 
glancing  toward  the  bed — "  he  wished  it." 

Thus  much  thought  for  her,  then,  the  dying  man  had 
shown.  He  had  been  unwilling  to  leave  his  wife  forlorn 
in  a  strange  land.  He  had  come  "as  fast  as  he  could," 
that  her  child  might  be  born  and  her  husband  die  at 
Cairnforth — at  least  so  the  earl  supposed,  nor  subsequent- 
ly found  any  reason  to  doubt.  It  was  a  good  thing  to 
hear  then — good  to  remember  afterward. 

For  hours  the  earl  sat  in  the  broken  chair,  with  Helen 
and  her  baby  opposite,  watching  and  waiting  for  the  end. 


A  Nolle  Life.  217 

It  did  not  come  till  near  morning.  Once  during  the 
night  Captain  Bruce  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  about 
him,  but  either  his  mind  was  confused,  or — who  knows? 
— made  clearer  by  the  approach  of  death,  for  he  evinced 
no  sign  of  surprise  at  the  earl's  presence  in  the  room. 
He  only  fixed  upon  him  a  long,  searching,  inquiring  gaze, 
which  seemed  to  compel  an  answer. 

Lord  Cairnforth  spoke : 

"  Cousin,  I  am  come  to  take  home  with  me  your  wife 
and  child.  Are  you  satisfied?" 

"Yes." 

"I  promise  you  they  shall  never  want.  I  will  take 
care  of  them  always." 

There  was  a  faint  assenting  movement  of  the  dying 
head,  and  then,  just  as  Helen  went  out  of  the  room  with 
her  baby,  Captain  Bruce  followed  her  with  his  eyes,  in 
which  the  earl  thought  was  an  expression  almost  ap- 
proaching tenderness.  "Poor  thing  —  poor  thing!  her 
long  trouble  is  over." 

These  were  the  last  words  he  ever  said,  for  shortly 
afterward  he  again  fell  into  a  sleep,  out  of  which  he  pass- 
ed quietly  and  without  pain  into  sleep  eternal.  They 
looked  at  him,  and  he  was  still  breathing ;  they  looked 
at  him  a  few  minutes  after,  and  he  was,  as  Mr.  Cardross 
would  have  expressed  it,  "  away" — far,  far  away — in  His 
safe  keeping  with  whom  abide  the  souls  of  both  the  right- 
eous and  the  wicked,  the  living  and  the  dead. 

Let  Him  judge  him,  for  no  one  else  ever  did.  No  one 
ever  spoke  of  him  but  as  their  dead  can  only  be  spoken 
of  either  to  or  by  the  widow  and  the  fatherless. 

****** 
K 


218  A  Noble  Life. 

Without  much  difficulty  —  for,  after  her  husband's 
death,  Helen's  strength  suddenly  collapsed,  and  she  be- 
came perfectly  passive  in  the  earl's  hands  and  in  those  of 
Mrs.  Campbell — Lord  Cairnforth  learned  all  he  required 
about  the  circumstances  of  the  Bruce  family. 

They  were  absolutely  penniless.  Helen's  boy  had  been 
born  only  a  day  or  two  after  their  arrival  at  Edinburg. 
JELer  husband's  illness  increased  suddenly  at  the  last,  but 
he  had  not  been  quite  incapacitated  till  she  had  gained  a 
little  strength,  so  as  to  be  able  to  nurse  him.  But  how 
she  had  done  it  —  how  then  and  for  many  months  past 
she  had  contrived  to  keep  body  and  soul  together,  to 
endure  fatigue,  privation,  mental  anguish,  and  physical 
weakness,  was,  according  to  good  Mrs.  Campbell,  who 
heard  and  guessed  a  great  deal  more  than  she  chose  to 
tell,  "just  wonderfu'."  It  could  only  be  accounted  for 
by  Helen's  natural  vigor  of  constitution,  and  by  that  pre- 
ternatural strength  and  courage  which  Nature  supplies 
to  even  the  saddest  form  of  motherhood. 

And  now  her  brief  term  of  wifehood — she  had  yet  not 
been  married  two  years  —  was  over  forever,  and  Helen 
Bruce  was  left  a  mother  only.  It  was  easy  to  see  that 
she  would  be  one  of  those  women  who  remain  such — 
mothers,  and  nothing  but  mothers,  to  the  end  of  their 
days. 

"  She's  ower  young  for  me  to  say  it  o'  her,"  observed 
Mrs.  Campbell,  in  one  of  the  long  consultations  that  she 
and  the  earl  held  together  concerning  Helen,  who  was  of 
necessity  given  over  almost  exclusively  to  the  good  wom- 
an's charge;  "but  ye'll  see,  my  lord,  she  will  look  nae 
mair  at  any  mortal  man.  She'll  just  spend  her  days  in 


A  Noble  Life.  219 

tending  that  wean  o'  hers  —  and  a  sweet  bit  thing  it  is, 
ye  ken  —  by-and-by  she'll  get  blithe  and  bonnie  again. 
She'll  be  aye  gentle  and  kind,  and  no  dreary,  but  she'll 
never  marry.  Pair  Miss  Helen !  she'll  be  ane  o'  thae 
widows  that  the  apostle  tells  o' — that  are  'widows  in- 
deed.' » 

And  Mrs.  Campbell,  who  herself  was  one  of  the  num- 
ber, heaved  a  sigh — perhaps  for  Helen,  perhaps  for  her- 
self, and  for  one  whose  very  name  was  now  forgotten ; 
who  had  gone  down  to  the  bottom  of  Loch  Beg  when 
the  earl's  father  was  drowned,  and  never  afterward  been 
seen,  living  or  dead,  by  any  mortal  eye. 

The  earl  gave  no  answer  to  his  good  nurse's  gossip. 
He  contented  himself  with  making  all  arrangements  for 
poor  Helen's  comfort,  and  taking  care  that  she  should  be 
supplied  with  every  luxury'  befitting  not  alone  Captain 
Brace's  wife  and  Mr.  Cardross's  daughter,  but  the  "  cous- 
in" of  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth.  And  now,  whenever  he 
spoke  of  her,  it  was  invariably  and  punctiliously  as  "  my 
cousin." 

The  baby  too — Mrs.  Campbell's  truly  feminine  soul 
was  exalted  to  infinite  delight  and  pride  at  being  em- 
ployed by  the  earl  to  procure  the  most  magnificent  stock 
of  baby-clothes  that  Edinburg  could  supply.  ISTo  young 
heir  to  a  peerage  could  be  appareled  more  splendidly 
than  was,  within  a  few  days,  Helen's  boy.  He  was  the 
admiration  of  the  whole  hotel ;  and  when  his  mother 
made  some  weak  resistance,  she  received  a  gentle  mes- 
sage to  the  effect  that  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth  begged,  as  a 
special  favor,  to  be  allowed  to  do  exactly  as  he  liked  with 
his  little  "cousin." 


220  A  Nolle  Life. 

And  every  morning,  punctual  to  the  hour,  the  earl  had 
himself  taken  up  stairs  into  the  infantile  kingdom  of 
which  Mrs.  Campbell  was  installed  once  more  as  head 
nurse,  where  he  would  sit  watching  with  an  amused  cu- 
riosity, that  was  not  without  its  pathos,  the  little  creature 
so  lately  come  into  the  world — to  him,  unfamiliar  with 
babies,  such  a  wondrous  mystery.  Alas !  a  mystery 
which  it  was  his  lot  to  behold — as  all  the  joys  ctf  life — 
from  the  outside. 

But,  though  life's  joys  were  forbidden  him,  its  -duties 
seemed  to  accumulate  daily.  There  was  Mr.  Cardross  to 
be  kept  patient  by  the  assurance  that  all  was  well,  and 
that  presently  his  daughter  and  his  grandchild  would  be 
coming  home.  There  was  Alick  Cardross,  now  a  young 
clerk  in  the  office  of  Menteith  &  Eoss,  to  be  looked 
after,  and  kept  from  agitating  his  sister  by  any  question- 
ings ;  and  there  was  a  tribe  of  young  Menteiths  always 
needing  assistance  or  advice — now  and  then  something 
more  tangible  than  advice.  Then  there  were  the  earl's 
Edinburg  friends,  who  thronged  round  him  in  hearty 
welcome  as  soon  as  ever  they  heard  he  was  again  in  the 
good  old  city,  and  would  willingly  have  drawn  him  back 
again  into  that  brilliant  society  which  he  had  enjoyed  so 
much. 

He  enjoyed  it  still — a  little;  and  during  the  weeks 
that  elapsed  before  Helen  was  able  to  travel,  or  do  any 
thing  but  lie  still  and  be  taken  care  of,  he  found  oppor- 
tunity to  mingle  once  more  among  his  former  associates. 
But  his  heart  was  always  in  that  quiet  room  which  he 
only  entered  once  a  day,  where  the  newly-made  widow 
sat  with  her  orphan  child  at  her  bosom,  and  waited  for 


A  Noble  Life.  221 

Time,  the  healer,  to  soothe  and  bind  up  the  inevitable 
wounds. 

At  last  the  day  arrived  when  the  earl,  with  his  little 
cortege  of  two  carriages,  one  his  own,  and  the  other  con- 
taining Helen,  her  baby,  and  Mrs.  Campbell,  quitted  Ed- 
inburg,  and,  traveling  leisurely,  neared  the  shores  of 
Loch  Beg.  » 

They  did  not  come  by  the  ferry,  Lord  Cairnforth  hav- 
ing given  orders  to  drive  round  the  head  of  the  loch,  as 
the  easiest  and  most  unobtrusive  way  of  bringing  Helen 
home.  Much  he  wondered  how  she  bore  it — the  sight 
of  the  familiar  hills — exactly  the  same — for  it  was  the 
same  time  of  year,  almost  the  very  day,  when  she  had 
left  Cairnforth;  but  he  could  not  inquire.  At  length, 
after  much  thought,  during  the  last  stage  of  the  journey, 
he  bade  Malcolm  ask  Mrs.  Bruce  if  she  would  leave  her 
baby  for  a  little  and  come  into  the  earl's  carriage,  which 
message  she  obeyed  at  once. 

These  few  weeks  of  companionship,  not  constant,  but 
still  sufficiently  close,  had  brought  them  back  very  much 
into  their  old  brother  and  sister  relation,  and  though 
nothing  had  been  distinctly  said  about  it,  Helen  had  ac- 
cepted passively  all  the  earl's  generosity  both  for  herself 
and  her  child.  Once  or  twice,  when  he  had  noticed  a 
slight  hesitation  of  uneasiness  in  her  manner,  Lord  Cairn- 
forth had  said,  "I  promised  him,  you  remember,"  and  this 
had  silenced  her.  Besides,  she  was  too  utterly  worn  out 
and  broken  down  to  resist  any  kindness.  She  seemed  to 
open  her  heart  to  it — Helen's  proud,  sensitive,  independ- 
ent heart — much  as  a  plant,  long  dried  up,  withered,  and 
trampled  upon,  opens  itself  to  the  sunshine  and  the  dew. 


222  A.  Nolle  Life. 

But  now  her  health,  both  of  body  and  mind,  had  re- 
vived a  little;  and  as  she  sat  opposite  to  him  in  her 
grave,  composed  widowhood,  even  the  disguise  of  the 
black  weeds  could  not  take  away  a  look  that  returned 
again  and  again,  reminding  the  earl  of  the  Helen  of  his 
childhood — the  bright,  sweet,  wholesome-natured,  high- 
spirited  Helen  Cardross. 

"I  asked  you  to  come  to  me  in  the  carriage," said  he, 
after  they  had  spoken  a  while  about  ordinary  things. 
"Before  we  reach  home,  I  think  we  ought  to  have  a  little 
talk  upon  some  few  matters  which  we  have  never  referred 
to  as  yet.  Are  you  able  for  this?" 

"Oh  yes,  but — I  can't — I  can't!"  and  a  sudden  ex- 
pression of  trouble  and  fear  darkened  the  widow's  face. 
"  Do  not  ask  me  any  questions  about  the  past.  It  is  all 
over  now ;  it  seems  like  a  dream — as  if  I  had  never  been 
away  from  Cairnforth." 

"Let  it  be  so  then,  Helen,  my  dear,"  replied  the  earl, 
tenderly.  "  Indeed,  I  never  meant  otherwise.  It  is  far 
the  best." 

Thus,  both  at  the  time  and  ever  after,  he  laid,  and  com 
pelled  others  to  lay,  the  seal  of  silence  upon  those  two  sad 
years,  the  secrets  of  which  were  buried  in  Captain  Bruce's 
quiet  grave  in  Grrayfriars7  church-yard. 

"Helen, "he  continued,  "I  am  not  going  to  ask  you  a 
single  question  ;  I  am  only  going  to  tell  you  a  few  things, 
which  you  are  to  tell  your  father  at  the  first  opportunity, 
so  as  to  place  you  in  a  right  position  toward  him,  and, 
whatever  his  health  may  be,  to  relieve  his  mind  entirely 
both  as  to  you  and  Boy." 

"Boy"  the  little  Alexander  had  already  begun  to  be 


A  Noble  Life.  223 

called.  "  Boy"  j»ar  excellence,  for  even  at  that  early  period 
of  his  existence  he  gave  tokens  of  being  a  most  masculine 
character,  with  a  resolute  will  of  his  own,  and  a  power  of 
howling, till  he  got  his  will  which  delighted  Nurse  Camp- 
bell exceedingly.  He  was  already  a  thorough  Cardross 
—  not  in  the  least  a  Bruce :  he  inherited  Helen's  great 
blue  eyes,  large  frame,  and  healthy  temperament,  and 
was,  in  short,  that  repetition  of  the  mother  in  the  son 
which  Dame  Nature  delights  in,  and  out  of  which  she 
sometimes  makes  the  finest  and  noblest  men  that  the 
world  ever  sees. 

"  Boy  has  been  wide  awake  these  two  hours,  noticing 
every  thing,"  said  his  mother,  with  a  mother's  firm  con- 
viction that  this  rather  imaginative  fact  was  the  most  in- 
teresting possible  to  every  body.  "  He  might  have  known 
the  loch  quite  well  already,  by  the  way  he  kept  staring 
at  it." 

"  He  will  know  it  well  enough  by-and-by,"  said  the 
earl,  smiling.  "  You  are  aware,  Helen,  that  he  and  you 
are  permanently  coming  home." 

"  To  the  Manse?  yes !  My  dear  father  !  he  will  keep 
us  there  during  his  lifetime.  Afterward  we  must  take 
our  chance,  my  boy  and  I." 

"Not  quite  that.  Are  you  not  aware  —  I  thought, 
from  circumstances,  you  must  have  guessed  it  long  ago 
— that  Cairnforth.  Castle,  and  my  whole  property,  will  be 
yours  some  time?" 

Helen  colored  up,  vividly  and  painfully,  to  the  very 
brow. 

"  I  will  tell  you  no  untruth,  Lord  Cairnforth.  I  wa» 
aware  of  it.  That  is,  he — I  mean  it  was  suspected  that 


224  A  Noble  Life. 

you  had  meant  it  once.  I  found  this  out — don't  ask  me 
how — shortly  after  I  was  married ;  and  I  determined,  as 
the  only  chance  of  avoiding  it — and  several  other  things 
— never  to  write  to  you  again ;  never  to  take  .the  least 
means  of  bringing  myself — us — back  to  your  memory." 

"Why  so?" 

"  I  wished  you  to  forget  us,  and  all  connected  with  us, 
and  to  choose  some  one  more  worthy,  more  suitable,  to 
inherit  your  property." 

"But,  Helen,  that  choice  rested  with  myself  alone," 
said  the  earl,  smiling.  "  Has  not  a  man  the  right  to  do 
what  he  likes  with  his  own  ?" 

"  Yes ;  but — oh,"  cried  Helen,  earnestly,  "  do  not  talk 
of  this.  It  caused  me  such  misery  once.  Never  let  us 
speak  of  it  again." 

"  I  must  speak  of  it,"  was  the  answer,  equally  earnest. 
"  All  my  comfort  —  I  will  not  say  happiness ;  we  have 
both  learned,  Helen,  not  to  count  too  much  upon  happi- 
ness in  this  world — but  all  the  peace  of  my  future  life, 
be  it  short  or  long,  depends  upon  my  having  my  heart's 
desire  in  this  matter.  It  is  my  heart's  desire,  and  no  one 
shall  forbid  it.  I  will  carry  out  my  intentions,  whether 
you  agree  to  them  or  not.  I  will  speak  of  them  no  more, 
if  you  do  not  wish  it,  but  I  shall  certainly  perform  them. 
And  I  think  it  would  be  far  better  if  we  could  talk  mat- 
ters out  together,  and  arrange  every  thing  plainly  and 
openly  before  you  go  home  to  the  Manse,  if  you  prefer 
the  Manse,  though  I  could  have  wished  it  was  to  the  Cas- 
tle." 

"To  the  Castle!" 

"Yes.     I  intended  to  have  brought  you  back  from 


A  Noble  Life.  225 

Edinburg —  all  of  you,"  added  the  earl,  with  emphasis, 
" to  the  Castle  for  life!" 

Helen  was  much  affected.  She  made  no  attempt  either 
to  resist  or  to  reply. 

"But  now,  my  dear,  you  shall  do  exactly  what  you 
will  about  the  home  you  choose  —  exactly  what  makes 
you  most  content,  and  your  father  also.  Only  listen  to 
me  just  for  five  minutes,  without  interrupting  me.  I 
never  could  bear  to  be  interrupted,  you  know." 

Helen  faintly  smiled,  and  Lord  Cairnforth,  in  a  brief, 
business-like  way,  explained  how,  the  day  after  his  com- 
ing of  age,  he  had  deliberately,  and  upon  what  he — and 
Mr.  Menteith  likewise — considered  just  grounds,  consti- 
tuted her,  Helen  Cardross,  as  his  sole  heiress ;  that  he  had 
never  altered  his  will  since,  and  therefore  she  now  was, 
and  always  would  have  been,  and  her  children  after  her, 
rightful  successors  to  the  Castle  and  broad  acres  of  Cairn- 
forth. 

"The  title  lapses,"  he  added:  "there  will  be  no  more 
Earls  of  Cairnforth.  But  your  boy  may  be  the  founder 
of  a  new  name  and  family,  that  may  live  and  rule  for 
generations  along  the  shores  of  our  loch,  and  perhaps 
keep  even  my  poor  name  alive  there  for  a  little  while." 

Helen  did  not  speak.  Probably  she  too,  with  her  clear 
common  sense,  saw  the  wisdom  of  the  thing.  For  as,  as 
the  earl  said,  he  had  a  right  to  choose  his  own  heir — and 
as  even  the  world  would  say,  what  better  heir  could  he 
choose  than  his  next  of  kin  —  Captain  Bruce's  child? 
What  mother  could  resist  such  a  prospect  for  her  son  ? 
She  sat,  her  tears  flowing,  but  still  with  a  great  light  in 
her  blue  eyes,  as  if  she  saw  far  away  in  the  distance,  far 

K2 


226  A  Noble  Life. 

beyond  all  this  sorrow  and  pain,  the  happy  future  of  her 
darling — her  only  child. 

"  Of  course,  Helen,  I  could  pass  you  over,  and  leave 
all.  direct  to  that  young  man  of  yours,  who  is,  if  I  died 
intestate,  my  rightful  heir.  But  I  will  not — at  least,  not 
yet.  Perhaps,  if  I  live  to  see  him  of  age,  I  may  think 
about  making  him  take  nvy  name,  as  Bruce-Montgomerie. 
But  meanwhile  I  shall  educate  him,  send  him  to  school 
and  college,  and  at  home  he  shall  be  put  under  Malcolm's 
care,  and  have  ponies  to  ride  and  boats  to  row.  In  short, 
Helen,"  concluded  the  earl,  looking  earnestly  in  her  face 
with  that  sad,  fond,  and  yet  peaceful  expression  he  had, 
"  I  mean  your  boy  to  do  all  that  I  could  not  do,  and  to 
be  all  that  I  ought  to  have  been.  You  are  satisfied  ?" 

"Yes — quite.     I  thank  you.     And  I  thank  God." 

A  minute  more,  and  the  carriage  stopped  at  the  wick- 
et-gate of  the  Manse  garden. 

There  stood  the  minister,  with  his  white  locks  bared, 
and  his  whole  figure  trembling  with  agitation,  but  still 
himself — stronger  and  better  than  he  had  been  for  many 
months. 

"Papa!  papa!"  And  Helen,  his  own  Helen,  was  m 
his  arms. 

"Drive  on,"  said  Lord  Cairnforth,  hurriedly;  "Mal- 
colm, we  will  go  straight  to  the  Castle  now." 

And  so,  no  one  heeding  him — they  were  too  happy  to 
notice  any  thing  beyond  themselves— the  earl  passed  on, 
with  a  strange  smile,  not  of  this  world  at  all,  upon  his 
quiet  face,  and  returned  to  his  own  stately  and  solitary 
home. 


Copter  tyt  Jtotrtenfy. 


GOOD  Mrs.  Campbell  had  guessed  truly  that  from  this 
time  forward  Helen  Bruce  would  be  only  a  mother. 
Either  she  was  one  of  those  women  in  whom  the  mater- 
nal element  predominates — who  seem  born  to  take  care 
of  other  people  and  rarely  to  be  taken  care  of  themselves 
— or  else  her  cruel  experience  of  married  life  had  forever 
blighted  in  her  all  wifely  emotions — even  wifely  regrets. 
She  was  grave,  sad,  silent,  for  many  months  during  her 
early  term  of  widowhood,  but  she  made  no  pretense  of 
extravagant  sorrow,  and,  except  under  the  rarest  and 
most  necessary  circumstances,  she  never  even  named  her 
husband.  Nothing  did  she  betray  about  him,  or  her  per- 
sonal relations  with  him,  even  to  her  nearest  and  dearest 
friends.  He  had  passed  away,  leaving  no  more  enduring 
memory  than  the  tomb-stone  which  Lord  Cairnforth  had 
erected  in  Grayfriars'  church-yard 

— Except  his  child,  of  whom  it  was  the  mother's  undis- 
guised delight  that,  outwardly  and  inwardly,  the  little 
fellow  appeared  to  be  wholly  a  Cardross.  With  his  rel- 
atives on  the  father's  side,  after  the  one  formal  letter 
which  she  had  requested  should  be  written  to  Colonel 
Bruce  announcing  Captain  Bruce's  death,  Helen  evident 
ly  wished  to  keep  up  no  acquaintance  whatever — nay, 
more  than  wished  ;  she  was  determined  it  should  be  so — 


230  A  Nolle  Life. 

with  that  quiet,  resolute  determination  which  was  some- 
times seen  in  every  feature  of  her  strong  Scotch  face, 
once  so  girlish  and  sweet.  Nor  was  her  face  unsweet 
now  ;  but  it  bore  tokens  of  what  she  had  gone  through — 
of  a  battle  from  which  no  woman  ever  comes  out  un- 
wounded  or  unscarred. 

But,  as  before  said,  she  was  a  mother,  and  wholly  a 
mother,  which  blessed  fact  healed  the  young  widow's 
heart  better  and  sooner  than  any  thing  else  could  have 
done.  Besides,  in  her  case,  there  was  no  suspense,  no 
conflict  of  duties — all  her  duties  were  done.  Had  they 
lasted  after  her  child's  birth  the  struggle  might  have  been 
too  hard;  for  mothers  have  responsibilities  as  well  as 
wives,  and  when  these  conflict,  as  they  do  sometimes, 
God  help  her  who  has  to  choose  between  them !  But 
Helen  was  saved  this  misfortune.  Providence  had  taken 
her  destiny  out  of  her  own  hands,  and  here  she  was,  free 
as  Helen  Cardross  of  old,  in  exactly  the  same  position, 
and  going  through  the  same  simple  round  of  daily  cares 
and  daily  avocations  which  she  had  done  as  the  minis- 
ter's active  and  helpful  daughter. 

For  as  nothing  else  but  the  minister's  daughter  would 
she,  for  the  present,  be  recognized  at  Cairnforth.  Lord 
Cairnforth's  intentions  toward  herself  or  her  son  she  in- 
sisted on  keeping  wholly  secret,  except,  of  course,  as  re- 
garded that  dear  and  good  father. 

"I  may  die,"  she  said  to  the  earl — "die  before  your- 
self; and  if  my  boy  grows  up,  you  may  not  love  him,  or 
he  may  not  deserve  your  love,  in  which  case  you  must 
choose  another  heir.  ISTo,  you  shall  be  bound  in  no  way 
externally;  let  all  go  on  as  heretofore.  I  will  have  it  so." 


A  Nolle  Life.  231 

And  of  all  Lord  Cairnforth's  generosity  she  would  ac- 
cept of  nothing  for  herself  except  a  small  annual  sum, 
which,  with  her  widow's  pension  from  the  East  India 
Company,  sufficed  to  make  her  independent  of  her  fa- 
ther ;  but  she  did  not  refuse  kindness  to  her  boy. 

Never  was  there  such  a  boy.  "Boy"  he  was  called 
from  the  first,  never  "  baby ;"  there  was  nothing  of  the 
baby  about  him.  Before  he  was  a  year  old  he  ruled  his 
mother,  grandfather,  and  Uncle  Duncan  with  a  rod  of 
iron.  Nay,  the  whole  village  were  his  slaves.  "Miss 
Helen's  bairn"  was  a  little  king  every  where.  It  might 
have  gone  rather  hard  for  the  poor  wee  fellow  thus  alle- 
gorically 

"Wearing  on  his  baby  brow  the  round 
And  top  of  sovereignty" — 

that  dangerous  sovereignty  for  any  child — any  human 
being — to  wield,  had  there  not  been  at  least  one  person 
who  was  able  to  assume  authority  over  him. 

This  was,  strange  to  say — and  yet  not  strange — the 
Earl  of  Cairnforth. 

From  his  earliest  babyhood  Boy  had  been  accustomed 
to  the  sight  of  the  motionless  figure  in  the  moving  chair, 
who  never  touched  him,  but  always  spoke  so  kindly  and 
looked  round  so  smilingly ;  whom,  he  could  perceive— 
for  children  are  quicker  to  notice  things  than  we  some-, 
times  think — his  mother  and  grandfather  invariably  weL 
corned  with  such  exceeding  pleasure,  and  treated  with 
never-failing  respect  and  tenderness.  And,  as  soon  as  he 
could  crawl,  the  footboard  of  the  mysterious  wheeled 
chair  became  to  the  little  man  a  perfect  treasure-house 
of  delight.  Hidden  there  he  found  toys,  picture-books, 


232  A  Noble  Life. 

"sweeties" — gifts  such  as  he  got  nowhere  else,  and  foi 
which,  before  appropriating  them,  he  was  carefully  taught 
to  express  thanks  in  his  own  infantile  way,  and  made  to 
understand  fully  from  whom  they  came. 

"It's  bribery,  and  against  my  principles,"  the  earl 
would  sometimes  say,  half  sadly.  "  But,  if  I  did  not  give 
him  things,  how  else  could  Boy  learn  to  love  me?" 

Helen  never  answered  this,  no  more  than  she  used  to 
answer  many  similar  speeches  in  the  earl's  childhood. 
She  knew  time  would  prove  them  all  to  be  wrong. 

What  sort  of  idea  the  child  really  had  of  this  wonder- 
ful donor,  the  source  of  most  of  his  pleasures,  who  yet 
was  so  different  externally  from  every  body  else ;  who 
never  moved  from  the  wheel-chair ;  who  neither  caress- 
ed him  nor  played  with  him,  and  whom  he  was  not  al- 
lowed to  play  with,  but  only  lifted  up  sometimes  to  kiss 
softly  the  kind  face  which  always  smiled  down  upon  him 
with  a  sort  of  "  superior  love" — what  the  child's  childish 
notion  of  his  friend  was  no  one  could  of  course  discover. 
But  it  must  have  been  a  mingling  of  awe  and  affection- 
ateness ;  for  he  would  often — even  before  he  could  walk 
— crawl  up  to  the  little  chair,  steady  himself  by  it,  and 
then  look  into  Lord  Cairnforth's  face  with  those  myste- 
rious baby  eyes,  full  of  questioning,  but  yet  without  the 
slightest  fear.  And  once,  when  his  mother  was  teaching 
him  his  first  hymn — 

"  Gentle  Jesus,  meek  and  mild, 
Look  upon  a  little  child," 

Boy  startled  her  by  the  sudden  remark — one  of  the  di- 
vine profanities  that  are  often  falling  from  the  innocent 
lips  of  little  children — • 


A  NoUe  Life.  233 

"I  know  Jesus.     He  is  the  earl." 

And  then  Helen  tried,  in  some  simple  way,  to  make 
the  child  understand  about  Lord  Cairnforth,  and  how  he 
had  been  all  his  life  so  heavily  afflicted ;  but  Boy  could 
not  comprehend  it  as  affliction  at  all.  There  seemed  to 
him  something  not  inferior,  but  superior  to  all  other  peo- 
ple in  that  motionless  figure,  with  its  calm  sweet  face — 
who  was  never  troubled,  never  displeased — whom  every 
body  delighted  to  obey,  and  at  whose  feet  lay  treasures 
untold. 

"I  think  Boy  likes  me,"  Lord  Cairnforth  would  say, 
when  he  met  the  upturned  beaming  face  as  the  child,  in 
an  ecstasy  of  expectation,  ran  to  meet  him.  "His  love 
may  last  as  long  as  the  playthings  do." 

But  the  earl  was  mistaken,  as  Helen  knew.  His  love- 
victory  had  been  in  something  deeper  than  toys  and 
"  goodies."  Even  when  their  charm  began  to  cease  Boy 
still  crept  up  to  the  little  chair,  and  looked  from  the  emp- 
ty footboard  up  to  the  loving  face,  which  no  one,  man, 
woman,  or  child,  ever  regarded  without  something  far 
higher  than  pity. 

And,  by  degrees,  Boy,  or  "  Carr" — which,  as  being  the 
diminutive  for  his  second  Christian  name,  Cardross,  he 
was  often  called  now  —  found  a  new  attraction  in  his 
friend.  He  would  listen  with  wide-open  eyes,  and  at- 
tention that  never  flagged,  to  the  interminable  "  'tories" 
which  the  earl  told  him,  out  of  the  same  brilliant  imag- 
ination which  had  once  used  to  delight  his  uncles  in  the 
boat.  And  so,  little  by  little,  the  child  and  the  man  grew 
to  be  "a  pair  of  friends" — familiar  and  fond,  but  with  a 
certain  tender  reverence  always  between  them,  which  had 
the  most  salutary  effect  on  the  younger. 


234  A  Nolle  Life. 

Whenever  he  was  sick,  or  sorry,  or  naughty  —  and 
Master  "  Boy"  could  be  exceedingly  naughty  sometimes 
— the  voice  which  had  most  influence  over  him,  the  in- 
fluence to  which  he  always  succumbed,  came  from  the 
little  wheeled  chair.  No  anger  did  he  ever  find  there — 
no  dark  looks  or  sharp  tones — but  he  found  steady,  un- 
bending authority;  the  firm  will  which  never  passed 
over  a  single  fault,  or  yielded  to  a  single  whim.  In  his 
wildest  passions  of  grief  or  wrath,  it  was  only  necessary 
to  say  to  the  child,  "  If  the  earl  could  see  you!"  to  make 
him  pause ;  and  many  and  many  a  time,  whenever  moth- 
erly authority,  which  in  this  case  was  weakened  both  by 
occasional  over-indulgence  and  by  an  almost  morbid  ter- 
ror of  the  results  of  the  same,  failed  to  conquer  the  child, 
Helen  used,  as  a  last  resource,  to  bring  him  in  her  arms, 
set  him  down  beside  Lord  Cairnforth,  and  leave  him  there 
She  never  came  back  but  she  found  Boy  "good." 

"  He  makes  me  good,  too,  I  think,"  the  earl  would  say 
now  and  then,  "for  he  makes  me  happy." 

It  was  true.  Lord  Cairnforth  never  looked  "otherwise 
than  happy  when  he  had  beside  him  that  little  blossom 
of  hope  of  the  new  generation — Helen's  child. 

As  years  went  by,  though  he  still  lived  alone  at  the 
Castle,  it  was  by  no  means  the  secluded  life  of  his  youth 
and  early  manhood.  He  gradually  gathered  about  him 
neighbors  and  friends.  He  filled  his  house  occasionally 
with  guests,  of  his  own  rank  and  of  all  ranks ;  people 
notable  and  worthy  to  be  known.  He  became  a  "pa- 
tron," as  they  called  it  in  those  days,  of  art  and  literature, 
and  assembled  around  him  all  who,  for  his  pleasure  and 
their  own  benefit,  chose  to  enjoy  his  hospitality. 


A  Nolle  Life.        %<'**         235 

In  a  quiet  way,  for  he  disliked  public  show,  he  was 
likewise  what  was  termed  a  "  philanthropist,"  but  always 
on  the  system  which  he  had  learned  in  his  boyhood  from 
Helen  and  Mr.  Cardross,  that  "  charity  begins  at  home;" 
with  the  father  who  guides  well  his  own  household ;  the 
minister  whose  footstep  is  welcomed  at  every  door  in  his 
own  parish  ;  the  proprietor  whose  just,  wise,  and  merci- 
ful rule  make  him  sovereign  absolute  in  his  own  estate. 
This  last  especially  was  the  character  given  along  all  the 
country-side  to  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth. 

His  was  not  a  sad  existence ;  far  from  it.  None  who 
knew  him,  and  certainly  none  who  ever  staid  long  with 
him  in  his  own  home,  went  away  with  that  impression. 
He  enjoyed  what  he  called  "a  sunshiny  life" — having 
sunshiny  faces  about  him ;  people  who  knew  how  to  ac- 
cept the  sweet  and  endure  the  bitter ;  to  see  the  heaven- 
ly side  even  of  sorrow ;  to  do  good  to  all,  and  receive 
good  from  all ;  avoiding  all  envies,  jealousies,  angers,  and 
strifes,  and  following  out  literally  the  apostolic  command, 
"As  much  as  in  you  lies,  live  peaceably  with  all  men."  ) 

And  so  the  earl  was,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word, 
popular.  Every  body  liked  him,  and  he  liked  every 
body.  But  deep  in  his  heart — ay,  deeper  than  any  of 
these  his  friends  and  acquaintance  ever  dreamed — steady- 
ing and  strengthening  it,  keeping  it  warm  for  all  human 
uses,  yet  calm  with  the  quiet  sadness  of  an  eternal  want, 
lay  all  those  emotions  which  are  not  likings,  but  loves ; 
not  sympathies,  but  passions ;  but  which  with  him  were 
to  be,  in  this  world,  forever  dormant  and  unfulfilled. 

Never,  let  the  Castle  be  ever  so  full  of  visitors,  or  let 
his  daily  cares,  his  outward  interests,  and  his  innumera- 


236  A  Noble  Life. 

ble  private  charities  be  ever  so  great,  did  lie  omit  driving 
over  twice  or  thrice  a  week  to  spend  an  hour  or  two  at 
the  Manse — in  winter,  by  the  study  fire ;  in  summer,  under 
the  shade  of  the  green  elm-trees — the  same  trees  where 
he  had  passed  that  first  sunny  Sunday  when  he  came  a 
poor,  lonely,  crippled  orphan  child  into  the  midst  of  the 
large,  merry  family — all  scattered  now. 

The  minister,  Helen,  and  Boy  were  the  sole  inmates 
left  at  the  Manse,  and  of  these  three  the  latter  certainly 
was  the  most  important.  Hide  it  as  she  would,  the  prin- 
cipal object  of  the  mother's  life  was  her  only  child. 
Many  a  time,  as  Lord  Cairnforth  sat  talking  with  her, 
after  his  old  fashion,  of  all  his  interests,  schemes,  labors, 
and  hopes — hopes  solely  for  others,  and  labors,  the  end 
of  which  he  knew  he  would  never  see — he  would  smile 
to  himself,  noticing  how  Helen's  eye  wandered  all  the 
while — wandered  to  where  that  rosy  young  scapegrace 
rode  his  tiny  pony — the  earl's  gift — up  and  down  the 
gravel  walks,  or  played  at  romps  with  Malcolm,  or  dug 
holes  in  the  flower-beds,  or  got  into  all  and  sundry  of  the 
countless  disgraces  which  were  forever  befalling  Boy; 
yet  which,  so  lovable  was  the  little  fellow,  were  as  con- 
tinually forgiven,  and,  behind  his  back,  even  exalted  into 
something  very  like  merits. 

But  once — and  it  was  an  incident  which,  whether  or 
not  Mrs.  Bruce  forgot  it  herself,  her  friend  never  did, 
since  it  furnished  a  key  to  much  of  the  past,  and  a  serious 
outlook  for  the  future — Boy  committed  an  error  which 
threw  his  mother  into  an  agony  of  agitation  such  as  she 
had  not  betrayed  since  she  came  back,  a  widow,  to  Cairn- 
forth. 


A  Noble  Life.  237 

Her  little  son  told  a  lie !  It  was  a  very  small  lie,  such 
as  dozens  of  children  tell — are  punished  and  pardoned — 
but  a  lie  it  was.  It  happened  one  August  morning,  when 
the  raspberries  were  ripe — those  huge  red  and  white  rasp- 
berries for  which  the  Manse  was  famous.  He  was  de- 
sired not  to  touch  them — "  not  to  lay  a  finger  on  them," 
insisted  the  mother.  And  he  promised.  But,  alas !  the 
promises  of  four  years  old  are  not  absolutely  reliable ; 
and  so  that  which  happened  once  in  a  more  ancient  gar- 
den happened  in  the  garden  of  the  Manse.  Boy  plucked 
and  ate.  He  came  back  to  his  mother  with  his  white 
pinafore  all  marked,  and  his  red  mouth  redder  still  with 
condemnatory  stains.  Yet,  when  asked  "  if  he  had  touch- 
ed the  raspberries,"  he  opened  that  wicked  mouth  and 
said,  unblushingly,  "No!" 

Of  course  it  was  an  untruth — self-evident  \  in  its  very 
simplicity  almost  amusing ;  but  the  earl  was  not  prepared 
for  the  effect  it  seemed  to  have  upon  Helen.  She  started 
back,  her  lips  actually  blanched  and  her  eyes  glowing. 

"  My  son  has  told  a  lie  1"  she  cried,  and  kept  repeating 
it  over  and  over  again.  "  My  son  has  looked  me  in  the 
face  and  told  me  a  lie — his  first  lie  I" 

"Hush,  Helen!"  for  her  manner  seemed  actually  to 
frighten  the  child. 

"  No,  I  can  not  pass  it  over !  I  dare  not !  He  must 
be  punished.  Come !" 

She  seized  Boy  by  the  hand,  looking  another  way,  and 
was  moving  off  with  him,  as  if  she  hardly  knew  what  she 
was  doing. 

"  Helen !"  called  the  earl,  almost  reproachfully ;  for,  in 
his  opinion,  out  of  all  comparison  with  the  offense  seemed 


238  A  Noble  Life. 

the  bitterness  with  which  the  mother  felt  it,  and  was 
about  to  punish  it.  "  Tell  me,  first,  what  are  you  going 
to  do  with  the  child  ?" 

"  I  hardly  know — I  must  think — must  pray.  What  if 
my  son,  my  only  son,  should  inherit — I  mean,  if  he  should 
grow  up  to  be  a  liar?" 

That  word  "inherit"  betrayed  her.  No  wonder  now 
at  the  mother's  agony  of  fear — she  who  was  mother  to 
Captain  Bruce's  son.  Lord  Cairnforth  guessed  it  all. 

"  I  understand,"  said  he.     "  But—"  " 

"  No,"  Helen  interrupted,  "  you  need  understand  noth- 
ing, for  I  have  told  you  nothing.  Only  I  must  kill  the 
«in — the  fatal  sin — at  the  very  root.  I  must  punish  him. 
Come,  child !" 

She  was  trembling  all_over  with  agitation. 

"Come  back,  Helen,"  said  the  earl;  and  something  in 
the  tone  made  her  obey  at  once,  as  occasionally  during 
her  life  Helen  had  been  glad  to  obey  him,  and  creep  un- 
der the  shelter  of  a  stronger  will  and  clearer  judgment 
than  her  own.  "  You  are  altogether  mistaken,  my  dear 
friend.  Your  boy  is  only  a  child,  and  errs  as  such,  and 
you  treat  him  as  if  he  had  sinned  like  a  grown-up  man. 
Be  reasonable.  We  will  both  take  care  of  him.  No  fear 
that  he  will  turn  out  a  liar !" 

Helen  hesitated ;  but  still  her  looks  were  so  angry  and 
stern,  all  the  mother  vanished  out  of  them,  that  the  boy, 
instead  of  clinging  to  her,  ran  away  crying,  and  hid  him- 
self behind  Lord  Cairnforth's  chair. 

"Leave  him  to  me,  Helen.  Can  not  you  trust  me — • 
me — with  your  son  ?" 

Mrs.  Bruce  paused. 


A  Noble  Life.  239 

"  Now,"  said  the  earl,  wheeling  himself  round  a  little, 
so  that  he  came  face  to  face  with  the  sobbing  child,  "lift 
up  your  head,  Boy,  and  speak  the  truth  like  a  man  to 
me  and  to  your  mother — see !  she  is  listening.  Did  you 
touch  those  raspberries  ?"  • 

"No!" 

"  Cardross  1"  calling  him  by  his  rarely-spoken  name, 
not  his  pet-name,  and  fixing  upon  him  eyes,  not  angry, 
but  clear  and  searching,  that  compelled  the  truth  even 
from  a  child,  " think  again.  You  must  tell  us!" 

"No,  me  didn't  touch  them,"  answered  Boy,  dropping 
his  head  in  conscious  shame.  "  Not  with  me  fingers. 
Me  just  opened  me  mouth  and  they  popped  in." 

Lord  Cairnforth  could  hardly  help  smiling  at  the  poor 
little  sinner — the  infant  Jesuit  attaining  his  object  by 
such  an  ingenious  device ;  but  the  mother  did  not  smile, 
and  her  look  was  harder  than  ever. 

"  You  hear !  If  not  a  lie,  it  was  a  prevarication.  He 
who  lies  is  a  scoundrel,  but  he  who  prevaricates  is  a 
scoundrel  and  coward  too.  Sooner  than  Boy  should 
grow  up  like — like  that,  I  would  rather  die.  No,  I  would 
rather  see  him  die ;  for  I  might  come  in  time  to  hate  my 
own  son." 

By  these  fierce  words,  and  by  the  gleaming  eyes, 
which  made  a  sudden  and  total  change  in  the  subdued 
manner,  and  the  plain,  almost  elderly  face  under  the 
widow's  cap  that  Helen  always  wore,  Lord  Cairnforth 
guessed,  more  than  he  had  ever  guessed  before,  of  what 
the  sufferings  of  her  married  life  had  been. 

"  My  friend,"  he  said,  and  there  was  infinite  pity  as 
well  as  tenderness  in  his.  voice,  "believe  me,  you  are 


240  A  Noble  Life. 

wrong.  You  are  foreboding  what,  please  God,  will  nev- 
er happen.  God  does  not  deal  with  us  in  that  manner. 
He  bids  us  do  His  will,  each  of  us  individually,  without 
reference  to  the  doings  or  misdoings  of  any  other  person. 
And  if  we  obey  Him,  I  believe  He  takes  care  we  shall 
not  suffer — at  least  not  forever,  even  in  this  world.  Do 
not  be  afraid.  Boy,"  calling  the  little  fellow,  who  was 
now  sobbing  in  bitterest  contrition  behind  the  wheeled 
chair,  "come  and  kiss  your  mother.  Promise  her  that 
you  will  never  again  vex  her  by  telling  a  lie." 

"  No,  no,  no.  Me'll  not  vex  mamma.  Good  mamma ! 
pretty  mamma!  Boy  so  sorry !" 

And  he  clung  closely  and  passionately  to  his  mother, 
kissing  her  averted  face  twenty  times  over. 

11  You  see,  Helen,  you  need  not  fear,"  said  the  earl. 

Helen  burst  into  tears. 

After  that  day  it  came  to  be  a  general  rule  that,  when 
she  could  not  manage  him  herself,  which  not  unfrequent- 
ly  happened  —  for  the  very  similarity  in  temperament 
and  disposition  between  the  mother  and  son  made  their 
conflicts,  even  at  this  early  age,  longer  and  harder  — 
Helen  brought  Boy  up  to  the  Castle  and  left  him,  some- 
times for  hours  together,  in  the  library  with  Lord  Cairn- 
forth.  He  always  came  home  to  the  Manse  quiet  and 
"good." 

And  so  out  of  babyhood  into  boyhood,  and  thence 
into  youth,  grew  the  earl's  adopted  son ;  for  practically 
it  became  that  relationship,  though  no  distinct  explana- 
tion was  ever  given,  or  any  absolute  information  vouch- 
safed, for  indeed  there  was  none  who  had  a  right  to  in- 
quire; still,  the  neighborhood  and  the  public  at  targe 


A  Noble  Life.  241 

took  it  for  granted  that  such  were  Lord  Cairnforth's  in- 
tentions toward  his  little  cousin. 

As  for  the  boy's  mother,  she  led  a  life  very  retired — 
more  retired  than  even  Helen  Cardross,  doing  all  her  du- 
ties as  the  minister's  daughter,  but  seldom  appearing  in 
society.  And  society  speculated  little  about  her.  Some- 
times, when  the  Castle  was  full  of  guests,  Mrs.  Bruce  ap-v 
peared  among  them,  still  in  her  widow's  weeds,  to  be  re- 
ceived by  Lord  Cairnforth  with  marked  attention  and 
respect — always  called  "my  cousin,"  and,  whoever  was 
present,  invariably  requested  to  take  the  head  of  his  ta- 
ble ;  but,  except  at  these  occasional  seasons,  and  at  birth- 
days, new  years,  and  so  on,  Helen  was  seldom  seen  out 
of  the  Manse,  and  was  very  little  known  to  the  earl's  or- 
dinary acquaintance. 

But  every  body  in  the  whole  peninsula  knew  the  min- 
ister's grandson,  young  Master  Bruce.  The  boy  was  tall 
of  his  age  —  not  exactly  handsome,  being  too  like  his 
mother  for  that;  nevertheless,  the  robustness  of  form, 
which  in  her  was  too  large  for  comeliness,  became  in  him 
only  manly  size  and  strength.  He  was  athletic,  graceful, 
and  active ;  he  learned  to  ride  almost  as  soon  as  he  could 
walk ;  and,  under  Malcolm's  charge,  was  early  initiated 
in  all  the  mysteries  of  moor  and  loch.  By  fourteen  years 
of  age  Cardross  Bruce  was  the  best  shot,  the  best  fisher, 
the  best  hand  at  an  oar,  of  all  the  young  lads  in  the 
neighborhood. 

Then,  too,  though  allowed  to  run  rather  wild,  he  was 

unmistakably  a  gentleman.     Though  he   mixed  freely 

with  every  body  in  the  parish,  he  was  neither  haughty 

nor  over-familiar  with  any  one.     He  had  something  of 

/    L 


242  A  Noble  Life. 

the  minister's  manner  with  inferiors — frank,  gentle,  and 
free — winning  both  trust  and  love,  and  yet  it  was  im- 
possible to  take  liberties  with  him.  And  some  of  the 
elder  people  in  the  clachan  declared  the  lad  had  at  times 
just  "the  merry  glint  o'  the  minister's  e'en"  when  Mr. 
Cardross  first  came  to  the  parish  as  a  young  man  with 
his  young  wife. 

He  was  an  old  man  now,  "  wearin'  awa',"  but  slowly 
and  peacefully;  preaching  still,  though  less  regularly; 
for,  to  his  great  delight,  his  son  Duncan,  having  come  out 
creditably  at  college,  had  been  appointed  his  assistant  and 
successor.  Uncle  Duncan — only  twelve  years  his  neph- 
ew's senior — was  also  appointed  by  Lord  Cairnforth  tutor 
to  "Boy"  Bruce.  The  two  were  very  good  friends,  and 
not  unlike  one  another.  "  Ay,  he's  just  a  Cardross,"  was 
the  universal  remark  concerning  young  Bruce.  No  one 
ever  hinted  that  the  lad  was  like  his  father. 

He  was  not.  Nature  seemed  mercifully  to  have  for- 
gotten to  perpetuate  that  type  of  character  which  had 
given  Mr.  Menteith  formerly,  and  others  since,  such  a 
justifiable  dread  of  the  Bruce  family,  and  such  a  right- 
eous determination  to  escape  them.  Not  to  injure  them 
• — only  to  escape  them.  Lord  Cairnforth  still  paid  the 
annuity,  but  on  condition  that  no  one  of  his  father's  kin- 
dred should  ever  interfere,  in  the  smallest  degree,  with 
Helen's  child. 

This  done,  both  he  and  she  trusted  to  the  strong  safe- 
guards of  habit  and  education,  and  all  other  influences 
which  so  strongly  modify  character,  to  make  the  boy  all 
that  they  desired  him  to  be,  and  to  counteract  those  tend- 
encies which,  as  Lord  Cairnforth  plainly  perceived,  were 


A  Noble  Life.  243 

Helen's  daily  dread.  It  was  a  struggle,  mysterious  as 
that  which  visible  human  free-will  is  forever  opposing 
(apparently)  to  invisible  fate,  the  end  of  which  it  is  im- 
possible to  see,  and  yet  we  struggle  on.  t 

Thus  laboring  together  with  one  hope,  one  aim,  ancj 
one  affection,  all  centred  in  this  boy,  Lord  Cairnforth  and 
Mrs.  Bruce  passed  many  a  placid  year.  And  when  tho 
mother's  courage  failed  her — when  her  heart  shrank  in 
apprehension  from  real  terrors  or  from  chimeras  of  her 
own  creating,  her  friend  taught  her  to  fold  patiently  her 
trembling  hands,  and  say,  as  she  herself  and  the  minister 
had  first  taught  him  in  his  forlorn  boyhood,  the  one  only 
prayer  which  calms  fear  and  comforts  sorrow — the  lesson 
of  the  earl's  whole  life— " Thy  will  be  done!" 


Copter  tjjt  jF 


"  HELEN,  that  boy  of  yours  ought  to  be  sent  to  col- 
lege." 

"  Oh  no !  Surely  you  do  not  think  it  necessary  ?"  said 
Ilelen,  visibly  shrinking. 

She  and  Lord  Cairnforth  were  sitting  together  in  the 
Castle  library.  Young  Cardross  had  been  sitting  beside 
them,  holding  a  long  argument  with  his  mother,  as  he 
often  did,  for  he  was  of  a  decidedly  argumentative  turn 
of  mind,  until,  getting  the  .worst  of  the  battle,  and  being 
rather  "put  down" — a  position  rarely  agreeable  to  the 
self-esteem  of  eighteen — he  had  flushed  up  angrily,  made 
no  reply,  but  opened  one  of  the  low  windows  and  leaped 
out  on  the  terrace.  There,  pacing  to  and  fro  along  the 
countess's  garden,  they  saw  the  boy,  or  rather  young 
man,  for  he  looked  like  one  now.  He  moved  with  a 
rapid  step,  the  wind  tossing  his  fair  curls — Helen's  curls 
over  again — and  cooling  his  cheeks  as  he  tried  to  recover 
his  temper,  which  he  did  not  often  lose,  especially  in  the 
earl's  presence. 

Experience  had  not  effaced' the  first  mysterious  im- 
pression made  on  the  little  child's  mind  by  the  wheeled 
chair  and  its  occupant.  If  there  was  one  person  in  the 
world  who  had  power  to  guide  and  control  this  high- 
spirited  lad,  it  was  Lord  Cairnforth.  And  as  the  latter 
moved  his  chair  a  little  round,  so  that  he  could  more 


248  A  Noble  Life. 

easily  look  out  into  the  ^rden  and  see  the  graceful  fig- 
ure sauntering  among  the  flower-beds,  it  was  evident  by 
his  expression  that  the  earl  loved  Helen's  boy  very 
dearly. 

"He  is  a  fine  fellow,  and  a  good  fellow  as  ever  was 
born,  that  young  man  of  yours.  Still,  as  I  have  told  you 
many  a  time,  he  would  be  all  the  better  if  he  were  sent 
to  college." 

"For  his  education?  I  thought  Duncan  was  fully 
competent  to  complete  thai" 

"Not  altogether.  But,  for  many  reasons,  I  think  it 
would  be  advisable  for  him  to  go  from  home  for  a  while." 

"Why?     Because  his  mother  spoils  him?" 

The  earl  smiled,  and  gave  no  direct  answer.  In  truth, 
the  harm  Helen  did  her  boy  was  not  so  much  in  her 
"spoiling" — love  rarely  injures — as  in  the  counteracting 
weight  which  she  sometimes  threw  on  the  other  side — in 
the  sudden  tight  rein  which  she  drew  upon  his  little  fol- 
lies and  faults — the  painful  clashing  of  two  equally 
strong  wills,  which  sometimes  happened  between  the 
mother  and  son. 

This  was  almost  inevitable,  with  Helen's  peculiar  char- 
acter. As  she  sat  there,  the  sun  shining  on  her  fair  face 
— still  fair ;  a  clear,  healthy  red  and  white,  though  she 
was  over  forty — you  might  trace  some  harsh  lines  in  it, 
and  see  clearly  that,  save  for  her  exceeding  unselfishness 
and  lovingness  of  disposition,  Mrs.  Bruce  might  in  mid- 
dle age  have  grown  into  what  is  termed  a  "  hard"  wom- 
an ;  capable  of  passionate  affection,  bat  of  equally  pas- 
sionate severity,  and  prone  to  exercise  both  alike  upon 
the  beings  most  precious  to  her  on  earth. 


A  Noble  Life.  249 

"  I  fear  it  is  not  a  pleasant  doctrine  to  preach  to  moth- 
ers," said  Lord  Cairnforth ;  "  but,  Helen,  all  boys  ought 
to  leave  home  some  time.*  How  else  are  they  to  know 
the  world?" 

"  I  do  not  wish  my  boy  to  know  the  world." 

"  But  he  must.  He  ought.  Kemember  his  life  is  like- 
ly to  be  a  very  different  one  from  either  yours  or  mine." 

"  Do  not  let  us  think  of  that,"  said  Helen,  uneasily. 

"  My  friend,  I  have  been  thinking  of  it  ever  since  he 
was  born — or,  at  least,  ever  since  he  came  to  Cairnforth. 
That  day  seems  almost  like  yesterday,  and  yet — We  are 
growing  quite  middle-aged  folk,  Helen,  my  dear." 

Helen  sighed.  These  peaceful,  uneventful  years,  how 
fast  they  had  slipped  by !  She  began  to  count  them 
after  the  only  fashion  by  which  she  cared  to  count  any 
thing  now.  "  Yes,  Cardross  will  be  a  man — actually  and 
legally  a  man — in  little  more  than  two  years." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  was  considering.  By  that  time 
we  must  come  to  some  decision  on  a  subject  which  you 
will  never  let  me  speak  of;  but  by-and-by,  Helen,  you 
must.  Do  you  suppose  that  your  son  guesses,  or  that 
any  body  has  ever  told  him,  what  his  future  position  is 
to  be?" 

"  I  think  not.  There  was  nobody  to  tell  him,  for  no- 
body knew.  No,"  continued  Helen,  speaking  strongly 
and  decidedly,  "I  am  determined  on  one  point — nothing 
shall  bind  you  as  regards  my  son  or  me — nothing,  except 
your  own  free  will.  To  talk  of  me  as  your  successor  is 
idle.  I  am  older  than  you  are ;  and  you  must  not  be 
compromised  as  regards  my  son.  He  is  a  good  boy  now, 
but  temptation  is  strong,  and,"  with  an  irrepressible  shud- 

L2 


250  A  Noble  Life. 

der,  "  appearances  are  deceitful  sometimes.  Wait,  as  I 
have  always  said — wait  till  you  see  what  sort  of  man 
Cardross  turns  out  to  be." 

Lord  Cairnforth  made  no  reply,  and  once  more  the  two 
friends  sat  watching  the  unconscious  youth,  who  had  been 
for  so  many  years  the  one  object  of  both  their  lives. 

"  Ignorance  is  not  innocence,"  said  the  earl  at  length, 
after  a  long  fit  of  musing.  "  If  you  bind  a  creature  mor- 
ally hand  and  foot,  how  can  it  ever  learn  to  walk  ?  It 
would,  as  soon  as  you  loosed  the  bonds,  find  itself  not 
free,  but  paralyzed — as  helpless  a  creature  as  myself." 

Helen  turned  away  from  watching  her  boy,  and  laid 
her  hand  tenderly,  in  her  customary  caress,  on  the  feeble 
hand,  which  yet  had  been  the  means  of  accomplishing  so 
much. 

"  You  should  not  speak  so,"  she  said.  "  Scarcely  ever 
is  there  a  more  useful  life  than  yours." 

"  More  useful,  certainly,  than  any  one  once  expected 
— except  you,  Helen.  I  have  tried  to  make  you  not 
ashamed  of  me  these  thirty  years." 

"Is  it  so  many  ?  Thirty  years  since  the  day  you  first 
came  to  the  Manse  ?" 

"  Yes ;  you  know  I  was  forty  last  birthday.  Who 
would  have  thought  my  life  would  have  lasted  so  long  ? 
But  it  can  not  last  forever;  and  before  I  am  'away,'  as 
your  dear  old  father  would  say,  I  should  like  to  leave 
you  quite  settled  and  happy  about  that  boy." 

"  Who  says  I  am  not  happy  ?"  answered  Mrs.  Bruce, 
rather  sharply. 

"Nobody;  but  I  see  it  myself  sometimes — when  you 
get  that  restless,  anxious  look — there  it  is  now !  Helen, 


A  Noble  Life.  251 

I  must  have  it  away.  I  think  it  would  trouble  me  in  my 
grave  if  I  left  you  unhappy,"  added  the  earl,  regarding 
her  with  that  expression  of  yearning  tenderness  which 
she  had  been  so  used  to  all  her  days  that  she  rarely  no- 
ticed it  until  the  days  came  when  she  saw  it  no  more. 

"I  am  not  unhappy,"  she  said,  earnestly.  "Why 
should  I  be  ?  My  dear  father  keeps  well  still  —  he  en- 
joys a  green  old  age.  And  is  not  my  son  growing  up 
every  thing  that  a  mother's  heart  could  desire  ?" 

"I  do  believe  it.  Cardross  is  a  good  boy  —  a  very 
good  boy.  But  the  metal  has  never  been  tested — as  the 
soundest  metal  always  requires  to  be  —  and  until  this  is 
done,  you  will  never  rest.  I  had  rather  it  were  done 
during  my  lifetime  than  afterward.  Helen,  I  particular- 
ly wish  the  boy  to  go  to  college." 

The  earl  spoke  so  decidedly  that  Mrs.  Bruce  replied 
with  only  the  brief  question  "Where?" 

"  To  Edinburg ;  because  there  he  would  not  be  left 
quite  alone.  His  uncle  Alick  would  keep  an  eye  upon 
him,  and  he  could  be  boarded  with  Mrs.  Menteith,  whose 
income  would  be  none  the  worse  for  the  addition  I 
would  make  to  it;  for  of  course,  Helen,  if  he  goes,  it  must 
be  —  not  exactly  as  my  declared  heir,  since  you  dislike 
that  so  much,  but  —  as  my  cousin  and  nearest  of  kin, 
which  he  is  undeniably." 

Helen  acquiesced  in  silence. 

"I  have  a  right  to  him,  you  see,"  said  Lord  Cairnforth, 
smiling,  "and  really  I  am  rather  proud  of  my  young  fel- 
low. He  may  not  be  very  clever — the  minister  says  he 
is  not  —  but  he  is  what  I  call  a  man.  Like  his  mother, 
who  never  was  clever,  but  yet  was  every  inch  a  woman 


252  A  Noble  Life. 

— the  best  woman,  in  all  relations  of  life,  that  I  ever 
knew." 

Helen  smiled  too — a  little  sadly,  perhaps — but  soon  her 
mind  recurred  from  all  other  things  to  her  one  promi- 
nent thought. 

"  And  what  would  you  do  with  the  boy  himself?  He 
knows  nothing  of  money — has  never  had  a  pound-note  in 
his  pocket  all  his  life." 

"  Then  it  is  high  time  he  should  have — and  a  good 
many  of  them.  I  shall  pay  Mrs.  Menteith  well  for  his 
board,  but  I  shall  make  him  a  sufficient  allowance  be- 
sides. He  must  learn  how  to  manage  his  money — and 
himself.  He  must  stand  on  his  own  feet,  without  any 
one  to  support  him.  It  is  the  only  way  to  make  a  boy 
into  a  man — a  man  that  is  worth  any  thing.  Do  you  not 
see  that  yourself?" 

"  I  see,  Lord  Cairnforth,  that  you  think  it  would  be 
best  for  my  boy  to  be  separated  from  his  mother." 

She  spoke  in  a  hurt  tone,  and  yet  with  a  painful  con- 
sciousness that  what  she  said  was  not  far  off  the  truth, 
more  especially  as  the  earl  did  not  absolutely  deny  the 
accusation. 

"  I  think,  my  dear  Helen,  that  it  would  be  better  if  he 
were  separated  from  us  all  for  a  time.  "We  are  such 
quiet,  old-fashioned  folks  at  Cairnforth,  he  may  come  to 
weary  of  us,  you  know.  But  my  strongest  motive  is  ex- 
actly what  I  stated — that  he  should  be  left  to  himself,  to 
feel  his  own  strength  and  the  strength  of  those  principles 
which  we  have  tried  to  give  him — that  any  special  char- 
acter he  possesses  may  have  free  space  to  develop  itself. 
Up  to  a  certain  point  we  can  take  care  of  our  children ; 


A  Noble  Life.  253 

beyond,  we  can  not — nay,  we  ought  not ;  they  must  take 
care  of  themselves.  I  believe — do  not  be  angry,  Helen 
— but  I  believe  there  comes  a  time  in  every  boy's  life 
when  the  wisest  thing  even  his  mother  can  do  for  him  is 
— to  leave  him  alone." 

"And  not  watch  over  him — not  guide  him?" 

"  Yes,  but  not  so  as  to  vex  him  by  the  watching  and 
the  guiding.  However,  we  will  talk  of  this  another  day. 
Here  the  lad  comes." 

And  the  earl's  eyes  brightened  almost  as  much  as  Hel- 
en's did  when  Cardross  leaped  in  at  the  window,  all  his 
good-humor  restored,  kissed  his  mother  in  his  rough,  fond 
way,  of  which  he  was  not  in  the  least  ashamed  as  yet,  and 
sat  down  by  the  wheeled  chair  with  that  tender  respect- 
fulness and  involuntary  softening  of  manner  and  tone 
which  he  never  failed  to  show  toward  Lord  Cairnforth, 
and  had  never  shown  so  much  to  any  other  human  being. 

Ay,  the  earl  had  his  compensations.  We  all  have,  if 
we  know  it. 

Gradually,  in  many  a  long,  quiet  talk,  during  which 
she  listened  to  his  reasonings  as  probably  she  would  have 
listened  to  no  other  man's,  he  contrived  to  reconcile  Mrs* 
Bruce  to  the  idea  of  parting  with  her  boy — their  first  sep- 
aration, even  for  a  day,  since  Cardross  was  born.  It  was 
neither  for  very  long  nor  very  far,  since  civilization  had 
now  brought  Edinburg  to  within  a  few  hours' journey  of 
Cairnforth ;  but  it  was  very  sore,  nevertheless,  to  both 
mother  and  son. 

Helen  took  her  boy  and  confided  him  to  Mrs.  Menteith 
herself;  but  she  could  not  be  absent  for  more  than  one 
day,  for  just  about  this  time  her  father's  "green  old  age" 


254  A  Nolle  Life. 

began  to  fail  a  little,  and  he  grew  extremely  dependent 
upon  her,  which,  perhaps,  was  the  best  thing  that  could 
have  happened  to  her  at  this  crisis.  She  had  to  assume 
that  tenderest,  happiest  duty  of  being  "nursing  mother' 
to  the  second  childhood  of  one  who  throughout  her  own 
childhood,  youth,  and  middle  age  had  been  to  her  every 
thing  that  was  honored  and  deserving  honor — loving,  and 
worthy  of  love — in  a  parent. 

Not  that  Mr.  Cardross  had  sank  into  any  helpless  state 
of  mind  or  body ;  the  dread  of  paralysis  had  proved  a 
false  alarm;  and  Helen's  coming  home,  to  remain  there 
forever,  together  with  the  thoroughly  peaceful  life  which 
he  had  since  lived  for  so  many  years,  had  kept  up  the  old 
man's  vitality  to  a  surprising  extent.  His  life  was  now 
only  fading  away  by  slow  and  insensible  degrees,  like  the 
light  out  of  the  sunset  clouds,  or  the  colors  from  the 
mountains  —  silent  warnings  of  the  night  coming  "in 
which  no  man  can  work." 

The  minister  had  worked  all  his  days — his  Master's 
work ;  none  the  less  worthy  that  it  was  done  in  no  pub- 
lic manner,  and  had  met  with  no  public  reward.  Beyond 
his  own  Presbytery  the  name  of  the  Eeverend  Alexan- 
der Cardross  was  scarcely  known.  He  was  not  a  popu- 
lar preacher;  he  had  never  published  a  l>ook,.nor  even  a 
sermon,  and  he  had  taken  no  part  in  the  theological  con- 
troversies of  the  time.  He  was  content  to  let  other  men 
fight  about  Christianity ;  he  only  lived  it,  spending  him- 
self for  naught,  some  might  think,  in  his  own  country 
parish  and  among  his  poor  country  people,  the  pastor 
and  father  of  them  all. 

He  had  never  striven  after  this  world's  good  things, 


A  Noble  Life.  255 

and  they  never  came  to  him  in  any  great  measure ;  but 
better  things  did.  He  always  had  enough,  and  a  little  to 
spare  for  those  who  had  less.  In  his  old  age  this  right- 
eous man  was  not  "  forsaken,"  and  his  seed  never  "  beg- 
ged their  bread."  His  youngest,  Duncan,  was  always 
beside  him,  and  yearly  his  four  other  sons  came  to  visit 
him  from  the  various  places  where  they  had  settled 
themselves,  to  labor,  and  prosper,  and  transmit  honor- 
ably to  another  generation  the  honest  name  of  Cardross. 

For  the  minister's  "  ae  dochter,"  she  was,  as  she  had 
been  always,  his  right  hand,  watching  him,  tending  him, 
helping  and  guarding  him,  expending  her  whole  life  for 
him,  so  as  to  make  him  feel  as  lightly  as  possible  the 
gradual  decay  of  his  own ;  above  all,  loving  him  with  a 
love  that  made  labor  easy  and  trouble  light — the  pas- 
sionately devoted  love  which  we  often  see  sons  show  to 
mothers,  and  daughters  to  fathers,  when  they  have  never 
had  the  parental  ideal  broken,  nor  been  left  to  wander 
through  life  in  a  desolation  which  is  only  second  to  that 
of  being  "without  God  in  the  world." 

"I  think  he  has  a  happy  old  age — the  dear  old  fa- 
ther !"  said  Helen  one  day,  when  she  and  Lord  Cairnforth 
sat  talking,  while  the  minister  was  as  usual  absorbed  in 
the  library — the  great  Cairnforth  library,  now  becoming 
notable-all  over  Scotland,  of  which  Mr.  Cardross  had  had 
the  sole  arrangement,  and  every  book  therein  the  earl 
declared  he  loved  as  dearly  as  he  did  his  children. 

"  Yes,  he  is  certainly  happy.  And  he  has  had  a  hap- 
py life,  too — more  so  than  most  people." 

"  He  deserved  it.  All  these  seventy-five  years  he  has 
kept  truth  on  his  lips,  and  honor  and  honesty  in  his  heart. 


256  A  Nobk  Life. 

He  has  told  no  man  a  lie;  has  overreached  and  de- 
ceived no  man:  and,  though  he  was  poor — poor  always; 
when  he  married  my  mother,  exceedingly  poor — he  has 
literally,  from  that  day  to  this, '  owed  no  man  any  thing 
but  to  love  one  another.7  Oh  1"  cried  Helen,  looking  aft- 
er the  old  man  in  almost  a  passion  of  tenderness,  "  oh 
that  my  son  may  grow  up  like  his  grandfather !  Like 
nobody  else — only  his  grandfather." 

"  I  think  he  will,"  answered  Lord  Cairnforth. 

And,  in  truth,  the  accounts  they  had  of  young  Cardross 
were  for  some  time  extremely  satisfactory.  He  had  ac- 
commodated himself  to  his  new  life — had  taken  kindly 
to  his  college  work ;  gave  no  trouble  to  Mrs.  Menteith, 
and  still  less  to  his  uncle ;  the  latter  a  highly  respectable 
but  not  very  interesting  gentleman — a  partner  in  the  firm 
of  Menteith  and  Koss,  and  lately  married  to  the  youngest 
Miss  Menteith. 

Still,  by  his  letters,  the  nephew  did  not  seem  over- 
whelmingly fond  of  him,  complaining  sometimes  that 
Uncle  Alick  interfered  with  him  a  little  too  much ;  in- 
vestigated his  expenses,  made  him  balance  his  accounts, 
and  insisted  that  these  should  be  kept  within  the  limits 
suitable  for  Mrs.  Bruce's  son  and  Mr.  Cardross's  grand- 
son, who  would  have  to  work  his  way  in  the  world  as 
his  uncles  had  done  before  him. 

"  You  see,  Helen,"  said  the  earl,  "  all  concealment 
brings  its  difficulties.  It  would  be  much  easier  for  the 
boy  if  he  were  told  his  position  and  his  future  career  at 
once — nay,  if  he  had  known  it  from  the  first." 

But  Helen  would  not  hear  of  this.  She  was  obstinate, 
all  but  fierce,  on  the  subject.  No  argument  would  COD* 


A  Noble  Life.  257 

vince  her  that  it  was  not  safer  for  her  son,  who  had  been 
brought  up  in  such  Arcadian  simplicity,  to  continue  be- 
lieving himself  what  he  appeared  to  be,  than  to  be  daz- 
zled by  the  knowledge  that  he  was  the  chosen  heir  of 
the  Earl  of  Cairnforth. 

So,  somewhat  against  his  judgment,  the  earl  yielded. 

All  winter  and  spring  things  went  on  peacefully  in  the 
little  peninsula,  which  was  now  being  grasped  tightly  by 
the  strong  arm  of  encroaching  civilization.  Acre  after 
acre  of  moorland  disappeared,  and  became  houses,  gar- 
dens, green-houses,  the  feu-rents  of  which  made  the  es- 
tate of  Cairnforth  more  valuable  every  year. 

"  That  young  man  of  yours  will  have  enough  on  his 
hands  one  day,"  the  earl  said  to  Helen.  "  He  lives  an 
easy  life  now,  and  little  thinks  what  hard  work  he  is 
coming  to.  As  Mr.  Menteith  once  told  me,  the  owner 
of  Cairnforth  has  no  sinecure,  nor  will  have  for  the  next 
quarter  of  a  century." 

"  You  expect  a  busy  life,  then  ?" 

"Yes;  and  I  must  have  that  boy  to  help  me — till  he 
comes  to  his  own.  But,  Helen,  after  that  time,  you  must 
not  let  him  be  idle.  The  richest  man  should  work,  if  he 
can.  I  wonder  what  line  of  work  Cardross  will  take ; 
whether  he  will  attempt  politics — his  letters  are  very  po- 
litical just  now,  do  you  notice?" 

"Very.  And  there  is  not  half  enough  about  him- 
self." 

"  He  might  get  into  Parliament,"  continued  the  earl, 
"  and  perhaps  some  day  win  a  peerage  in  his  own  right. 
Eh,  Helen?  Would  you  like  to  be  mother  to  a  viscount 
— Viscount  Cairnforth?" 


258  A  Nobk  Life. 

11  No,"  said  Helen,  tenderly,  "  there  shall  never  be  an- 
other Lord  Cairnforth." 

Thus  sat  these  two,  planning  by  the  hour  together  the 
future  of  the  boy  who  was  their  one  delight.  It  amused 
them  through  all  the  winter  and  spring,  till  Cairnforth 
woods  grew  green  again,  and  Loch  Beg  recovered  its 
smile  of  sunshiny  peace,  and  the  hills  at  the  head  of  it 
took  their  summer  colors,  lovely  and  calm,  even  as,  year 
after  year,  these  friends  had  watched  them  throughout 
their  two  lives,  of  which  both  were  now  keenly  begin- 
ning to  feel  the  greater  part  lay,  not  before  them,  but  be- 
hind. But  in  thinking  of  this  boy  they  felt  young  again, 
as  if  he  brought  to  one  the  hope,  to  the  other  the  faint 
recollection  of  happiness  that  in  the  great  mystery  of 
Providence  to  each  had  been  personally  denied. 

And  yet  they  were  not  unhappy.  Helen  was  not.  No 
one  could  look  into  her  face — strongly  marked,  but  rosy- 
complexioned,  healthy,  and  comely  —  the  sort  of  large 
comeliness  which,  belongs  to  her  peculiar  type  of  Scotch 
women,  especially  in  their  middle  age — without  seeing 
that  life  was  to  her  not  only  duty,  but  enjoyment — ay, 
in  spite  of  the  widow's  cap,  which  marked  her  out  as  one 
who  permanently  belonged  and  meant  to  belong  only  to 
her  son. 

And  the  earl,  though  he  was  getting  to  look  old — old- 
er than  Helen  did  —  for  his  black  curls  were  turning 
gray,  and  the  worn  and  withered  features,  contrasting 
with  the  small,  childish  figure,  gave  him  a  weird  sort 
of  aspect  that  struck  almost  painfully  at  first  upon  stran- 
gers, still  Lord  Cairnforth  preserved  the  exceeding  sweet- 
ness and  peacefulness  of  expression  which  had  made  his 


A  Nolle  Life.  259 

face  so  beautiful  as  a  boy,  and  so  winning  as  a  young 
man. 

"  He'll  ne'er  be  an  auld  man,"  sometimes  said  the  folk 
about  Cairnforth,  shaking  their  heads  as  they  looked  aft- 
er him,  and  speculating  for  how  many  years  the  feeble 
body  would  hold  out.  Also,  perhaps — for  self-interest  is 
bound  up  in  the  heart  of  every  human  being — feeling  a 
little  anxiety  as  to  who  should  come  after  him,  to  be  lord 
and  ruler  over  them ;  perhaps  to  be  less  loved,  less  hon- 
ored— more  so  none  could  possibly  be. 

It  was  comfort  to  those  who  loved  him  then,  and  far 
more  comfort  afterward  to  believe — nay,  to  know  for  cer- 
tain— that  many  a  man,  absorbed  in  the  restless  struggle 
of  this  busy  world,  prosperous  citizen,  husband  and  fa- 
ther, had,  on  the  whole,  led  a  far  less  happy  life  than  the 
Earl  of  Cairnforth. 


til? 


ONE  mild,  sunny  autumn  day,  when  Cardross,  having 
ended  his  first -session  at  college,  had  spent  apparently 
with  extreme  enjoyment  his  first  vacation  at  home,  and 
had  just  gone  back  again  to  Edinburg  to  commence  his 
second  "year,"  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth  drove  down  to  the 
Manse,  as  he  now  did  almost  daily,  for-  the  minister  was 
growing  too  feeble  to  come  to  the  Castle  very  often. 

His  old  pupil  found  him  sitting  in  the  garden,  sunning 
himself  in  a  sheltered  nook,  backed  by  a  goodly  show  of 
China  roses  and  fuchsias,  and  companioned  by  two  or 
three  volumes  of  Greek  plays,  in  which,  however,  he  did 
not  read  much.  He  looked  up  with  pleasure  at  the  sound 
of  the  wheeled  chair  along  the  gravel  walk. 

"  I'm  glad  you  are  come,"  said  he.  "  I'm  sorely  need- 
ing somebody,  for  I  have  scarcely  seen  Helen  all  the 
morning.  There  she  is!  My  lassie,  where  have  you 
been  these  three  hours?" 

Helen  put  off  his  question  in  some  gentle  manner,  and 
took  her  place  beside  her  charge,  or  rather  between  her 
two  charges,  each  helpless  in  their  way,  though  the  one 
most  helpless  once  was  least  so  now. 

"Helen,  something  is  wrong  with  you  this  morning?'' 
said  the  earl,  when,  Mr.  Cardross  having  gone  away  for 
his  little  daily  walk  up  and  down  between  the  garden 


204  A  Nolle  Life. 

and  the  kirk-yard,  they  two  sat  by  themselves  for  a 
while. 

Mrs.  Bruce  made  no  answer. 

"  Nothing  can  be  amiss  with  your  boy,  for  I  had  a  let- 
ter from  him  only  yesterday." 

"  I  had  one  this  morning." 

"And  what  does  he  say  to  you  ?  To  me  little  enough, 
merely  complaining  how  dull  he  finds  Edinburg  now, 
and  wishing  he  were  back  again  among  us  all." 

"I  do  not  wonder,"  said  Helen,  in  a  hard  tone,  and 
with  that  hard  expression  which  sometimes  came  over 
her  face :  the  earl  knew  it  well. 

"  Helen,  I  am  certain  something  is  very  wrong  with 
you.  Why  do  you  not  tell  it  out  to  me  ?" 

"  Hush !  here  comes  my  father !" 

And  she  hurried  to  him,  gave  him  her  arm,  and  helped 
his  feeble  steps  back  into  the  house,  where  for  some  time 
they  three  remained  talking  together  about  the  little  chit- 
chat of  the  parish,  and  the  news  of  the  family,  in  its  va- 
rious ramifications,  now  extending  year  by  year.  Above 
all,  the  minister  liked  to  hear  and  to  talk  about  his  eldest 
and  favorite  grandchild — his  name-child,  too — Alexander 
Cardross  Bruce. 

But  on  this  subject,  usually  the  never-ceasing  topic  at 
the  Manse,  Helen  was  for  once  profoundly  silent.  Even 
when  her  father  had  dropped  asleep,  as  in  his  feebleness 
of  age  he  frequently  did  in  the  very  midst  of  conversa- 
tion, she  sat  restlessly  fingering  her  wedding-ring,  and  an- 
other which  she  wore  as  a  sort  of  guard  to  it,  the  only 
jewel  she  possessed.  It  was  a  very  large  diamond,  set  in 
a  plain  hoop  of  gold.  The  earl  had  given  it  to  her  a  few 


A  Noble  Life. 

months  after  she  came  back  to  Cairnforth,  when  her  per- 
sistent refusal  of  all  his  offered  kindnesses  had  almost 
produced  a  breach  between  them — at  least  the  nearest 
approach  to  a  quarrel  they  had  ever  known.  She,  see- 
ing how  deeply  she  had  wounded  him,  had  accepted  this 
ring  as  a  pledge  of  amity,  and  had  worn  it  ever  since — 
by  his  earnest  request — until  it  had  become  as  familiar 
to  her  ringer  as  the  one  beside  it.  But  now  she  kept 
looking  at  it,  and  taking  it  off  and  on  with  a  troubled 
air. 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  strange  question,  Lord  Cairn- 
forth— a  rude  one,  if  you  and  I  were  not  such  old  friends 
that  we  do  not  mind  any  thing  we  say  to  one  another." 

"Say  on." 

"Is  this  ring  of  mine  very  valuable  ?" 

"Bather  so." 

"  Worth  how  much  ?" 

"You  certainly  are  rude,  Helen,"  replied  the  earl,  with 
a  smile.  "  Well,  if  you  particularly  wish  to  know,  I  be- 
lieve it  is  worth  two  hundred  pounds." 

"  Two  hundred  pounds !" 

"Was  that  so  alarming?  How  many  times  must  I 
suggest  that  a  man  may  do  what  he  likes  with  his  own  ? 
It  was  mine — that  is,  my  mother's,  and  I  gave  it  to  you. 
I  hope  you  are  worth  to  me  at  least  two  hundred  pounds." 

But  no  cheerfulness  removed  the  settled  cloud  from 
Mrs.  Brace's  face. 

"Now — answer  me — you  know,  Helen,  you  alwaj-s 
answer  me  candidly  and  truly,  what  makes  you  put,  that 
question  about  the  ring?" 

"  Because  I  wished  to  sell  it." 
M 


266  A  Noble  Life.' 

"Sell  it!  why?" 

"  I  want  money ;  in  fact,  I  must  have  money — a  good 
large  sum,"  said  Helen,  in  exceeding  agitation.  "And 
as  I  will  neither  beg,  borrow,  nor  steal,  I  must  sell  some- 
thing to  procure  that  sum,  and  this  diamond  is  the  only 
thing  I  have  to  sell.  Now  you  comprehe&d  ?" 

"  I  think  I  do,"  was  the  grave  answer.  "  My  poof 
Helen !" 

She  might  have  held  out,  but  the  tenderness  of  his  tone 
overcame  her.  She  turned  her  head  away. 

"  Oh,  it's  bitter,  bitter !     After  all  these  years !" 

"  What  is  bitter?  •  But  you  need  not  tell  me.  I  think 
I  can  guess.  You  did  not  show  me  your  boy's  letter  of 
this  morning." 

"There  it  is!" 

And  the  poor  mother,  with  her  tears  fast  flowing — 
they  had  been  restrained  so  long  that  now  they  burst 
outjike  a  tide  —  gave  way  to  that  heart-break  which 
many  a  mother  has  had  to  endure — the  discovery  that 
her  son  was  not  the  perfect  being  she  had  thought  him; 
that  he  was  no  better  than  other  women's  sons,  and 
equally  liable  to  fall  away.  Poor  Cardross  had  been 
doing  all  sorts  of  wrong  and  foolish  things,  which  he  had 
kept  to  himself  as  long  as  he  could,  as  long  as  he  dared, 
and  then  had  come,  in  an  agony  of  penitence,  and  poured 
out  the  whole  story  of  his  errors  and  his  miseries  into 
his  mother's  bosom. 

They  were,  happily,  only  errors,  not  sins — extravagan- 
cies in  dress;  amusements  and  dissipations,  resulting  in 
serious  expenses ;  but  the  young  fellow  had  done  nothing 
absolutely  wicked.  In  the  strongest  manner,  and  with 


A  Noble  Life.  267 

the  most  convincing  evidence  to  back  it,  he  protested 
this,  and  promised  to  amend  his  ways,  to  "  turn  over  a 
new  leaf,"  if  only  his  mother  would  forgive  him,  and  find 
means  to  pay  the  heap  of  bills  which  he  inclosed,  and 
which  amounted  to  much  more  than  would  be  covered 
by  his  yearly  allowance  from  the  earl. 

"  Poor  lad !"  said  Lord  Cairnforth,  as  he  read  the  letter 
twice  over,  and  then  carefully  examined  the  list  of  debts 
it  inclosed.  "  A  common  story." 

"I  know  that," cried  Helen,  passionately.  "But  oh! 
that  it  should  have  happened  to  my  son !" 

And  she  bowed  her  face  upon  her  bands,  and  swayed 
herself  to  and  fro  in  the  bitterest  grief  and  humiliation. 

The  earl  regarded  her  a  little  while,  and  then  said, 
gently,  "My  friend,  are  you  not  making  for  yourself  a 
heavy  burden  out  of  a  very  light  matter?" 

"A  light  matter?  But  you  do  not  see — you  can  not 
understand." 

"I  think  I  can." 

"It  is  not  so  much  the  thing  itself — the  fact  of  my 
sou's  being  so  mean,  so  dishonest  as  to  run  into  debt, 
when  he  knows  I  hate  it — that  I  have  cause  to  hate  it, 
and  to  shrink  from  it  as  I  would  from —  But  this  is 
idle  talking.  I  see  you  smile.  You  do  not  know  all 
the — the  dreadful  past." 

"  My  dear,  I  do  know — every  thing  you  could  tell  me 
— and  more." 

"Then  can  not  you  see  what  I  dread?  the  first  false  l 
step — the  fatal  beginning,  of  which  no  one  can  foresee 
the  end?     I  must  prevent  it.     I  must  snatch  my  poor 
boy  like  a  brand  from  the  burning.     I  shall  go  to  Edin- 


268  A  Noble  Life. 

burg  myself  to-morrow.    I  would  start  this  very  day  if  I 
could  leave  my  father." 

"  You  can  not  possibly  leave  your  father,"  said  the 
earl,  gently  but  decisively.  "Sit  down,  Helen.  You 
must  keep  quiet." 

For  she  was  in  a  state  of  excitement  such  as,  since  her 
widowed  days,  had  never  been  betrayed  by  Helen  Bruce. 

"  These  debts  must  be  paid,  and  immediately.  The 
bare  thought  of  them  nearly  drives  me  wild.  But  you 
shall  not  pay — do  not  think  it,"  she  added,  almost  fierce- 
ly. "  See  what  my  son  himself  says — and  thank  God  he 
had  the  grace  to  say  it— that  I  am  on  no  account  to  go 
to  you ;  that  he  'will  turn  writer's  clerk,  or  tutor,  or  any 
thing,  rather  than  encroach  farther  on  Lord  Cairnforth's 
generosity.1 " 

"  Poor  boy !  poor  boy  !" 

"Then  you  don't  think  him  altogether  a  bad  boy?" 
appealed  Mrs.  Bruce,  pitifully.  "  You  do  not  fear  that  I 
may  live  to  weep  over  the  day  when  my  son  was  born?" 

The  earl  smiled,  and  that  quiet,  half -amused  smile, 
coming  upon  her  in  her  excited  state,  seemed  to  soothe 
the  mother  more  than  any  reasoning  could  have  done. 

"  No,  Helen,  I  do  not  think  any  such  thing.  I  think 
the  lad  has  been  very  foolish,  and  we  may  have  been  the 
same.  "We  kept  him  in  leading-strings  too  long,  and  j 
trusted  him  out  of  them  too  suddenly.  But  as  to  his  be- 
ing altogether  bad  —  Helen  Cardross's  son,  and  the  min- 
ister's grandson — nonsense,  my  dear." 

Mr.  Cardross  might  have  heard  himself  named,  for  he 
stirred  in  his  peaceful  slumbers,  and  Helen  hastily  took 
her  letter  from  Lord  Cairnforth's  hand." 


A.  Noble  Life.  269 

"Not  a  word  to  him.  He  is  too  old.  No  trouble 
must  ever  come  near  him  any  more." 

"No,  Helen.  But  remember  your  promise  to  do  noth- 
ing till  you  have  talked  with  me.  It  is  my  right,  you 
know.  The  boy  is  my  boy  too.  When  will  you  come  up 
to  the  Castle  ?  To-morrow  ?  Nay,  to-night,  if  you  like." 

"I  will  come  to-night." 

So,  at  dusk,  in  the  midst  of  a  wild  storm,  such  as  in 
these  regions  sometimes,  nay,  almost  always  succeeds 
very  calm,  mild  autumn,  days,  Helen  appeared  at  the 
Castle,  and  went  at  once  into  the  library  where  the  earl 
usually  sat.  Strange  contrast  it  was  between  the  spa- 
cious apartment,  with  its  lofty  octagon  walls  laden  with 
treasures  of  learning ;  book-shelves,  tier  upon  tier,  reach- 
ing to  the  very  roof,  which  was  painted  in  fresco ;  every 
ornamentation  of  the  room  being  also  made  as  perfect  as 
its  owner's  fine  taste  and  lavish  means  could  accomplish, 
and  this  owner,  this  master  of  it  all,  a  diminutive  figure, 
sitting  all  alone  by  the  vacant  fireside — before  him  a  lit- 
tle table,  a  lamp,  and  a  book.  But  he  was  not  reading; 
he  was  sitting  thinking,  as  he  often  did  now ;  he  said  he 
had  read  so  much  in  his  time  that  he  was  rather  weary 
of  it,  and  preferred  thinking.  Of  what?  the  life  he  had 
passed  through — still,  uneventful,  and  yet  a  full  and  not 
empty  human  life?  Or  it  might  be,  oftener  still,  upon 
the  life  to  come  ? 

Lord  Cairnforth  refused  to  let  his  visitor  say  one  word, 
or  even  sit  down,  till  he  had  placed  her  in  Mrs.  Camp- 
bell's charge,  to  be  dried  and  reclothed,  for  she  was  drip- 
ping wet  with  rain — such  rain  as  comes  nowhere  but  at 
Loch  Beg.  By -and -by  she  reappeared  in  the  library, 


270  A  Nolle  Life. 

moving  through  its  heavy  shadows,  and  looking  herself 
again  —  the  calm,  dignified  woman,  "my  cousin,  Mrs. 
Bruce,"  who  sometimes  appeared  among  Lord  Cairn- 
forth's  guests,  and  whom,  though  she  was  too  retiring  to 
attract  much  notice,  every  body  who  did  notice  was  sure 
to  approve. 

She  took  her  accustomed  place  by  the  earl's  side,  and 
plunged  at  once,  in  Helen's  own  outspoken  way,  into  the 
business  which  had  brought  her  hither. 

"I  am  not  come  to  beg  or  to  borrow,  do  not  think  it 
— only  to  ask  advice.  Tell  me,  what  am  I  to  say  to  my 
boy?" 

And  again,  the  instant  she  mentioned  her  son's  name, 
she  gave  way  to  tears.  Yet  all  the  while  her  friend  saw 
that  she  was  very  hard,  and  bent  upon  being  hard ;  that, 
had  Cardross  appeared  before  her  at  that  minute,  she 
would  immediately  have  frozen  up  again  into  the  stern 
mother  whose  confidence  had  been  betrayed,  whose  prin- 
ciples infringed,  and  who,  though  loving  her  son  with  all 
the  strength  of  her  heart,  could  also  punish  him  with  all 
the  power  of  her  conscience,  even  though  her  heart  was 
breaking  with  sorrow  the  while. 

"I  will  give  you  the  best  advice  I  can.  But,  first,  let 
me  have  his  letter  again." 

Lord  Cairnforth  read  it  slowly  over,  Mrs.  Brace's  eager 
eyes  watching  him,  and  then  suffered  her  to  take  it  from 
his  helpless  hands,  and  fold  it  up,  tenderly,  as  mothers  do. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?" 

"  Exactly  what  I  did  this  morning — that  your  boy  has 
been  very  foolish,  but  not  wicked.  There  is  no  attempt 
at  deception  or  untruthful  ness." 


A  Noble  Lift.  271 

"  No,  thank  God !  Whatever  else  he  is,  my  son  is  not 
a  liar.  I  have  prevented  or  conquered  that." 

"  Yes,  because  you  brought  him  up,  as  your  father 
brought  us  up,  to  be  afraid  of  nothing,  to  speak  out  our 
minds  to  him  without  fear  of  offending  him,  to  stand  in 
no  dread  of  rousing  his  anger,  but  only  of  grieving  his 
love.  And  so,  you  see,  Helen,  it  is  the  same  with  your 
boy.  He  never  attempts  to  deceive  you.  He  tells  out, 
point-blank,  the  most  foolish  things  he  has  done — the 
most  ridiculous  expenses  he  has  run  into.  He  may  be 
extravagant,  but  he  is  not  untruthful.  I  have  no  doubt, 
if  I  sent  this  list  to  his  trades-people,  they  would  verify 
every  halfpenny,  and  that  this  really  is  the  end  of  the 
(ist.  Not  such  a  long  list  neither,  if  you  consider.  Be- 
low that  two  hundred  pounds  for  which  you  were  going 
to  sell  my  ring." 

"  Were  going !     I  shall  do  it  still." 

"  If  you  will ;  though  it  seems  a  pity  to  part  with  a 
gift  of  mine,  when  the  sum  is  a  mere  nothing  to  me, 
with  my  large  income,  which,  Helen,  will  one  day  be  all 
yours." 

Helen  was  silent — a  little  sorry  and  ashamed.  The 
earl  talked  with  her  till  he  had  succeeded  in  calming  her 
and  bringing  her  into  her  natural  self  again — able  to  see 
things  in  their  right  proportions,  and  take  just  views  of 
all. 

"Then  you  will  trust  me?"  she  said  at  last.  "You 
think  I  may  be  depended  upon  to  do  nothing  rashly 
when  I  go  to  Edinburg  to-morrow  ?" 

"My  dear,  I  have  no  intention  of  letting  you  go." 

"  But  some  one  must  go.     Something  must  be  done, 


272  A  Noble  Life. 

and  I  can  not  trust  Alick  to  do  it.  My  brother  does  not 
understand  my  boy,"  said  she,  returning  to  her  restless, 
helpless  manner.  She,  the  helpful  Helen,  only  weak  in 
this  one  point — her  only  son. 

"  Something  has  been  done.  I  have  already  sent  for 
Cardross.  He  will  be  at  the  Castle  to-morrow." 

Helen  started. 

"  At  the  Castle,  I  said,  not  the  Manse.  No,  Helen,  you 
shall  not  be  compromised ;  you  may  be  as  severe  as  you 
like  with  your  son.  But  he  is  my  son  too" — and  a  faint 
shade  of  color  passed  over  the  earl's  withered  cheeks-^ 
"  my  adopted  son,  and  it  is  time  that  he  should  know  it! 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  him — " 

"  I  mean  to  tell  him  all  my  intentions  concerning  him." 

"What!  now?" 

"  Yes,  now.  It  is  the  safest  and  most  direct  course, 
both  for  him,  for  you,  and  for  me.  I  have  been  thinking 
over  the  matter  all  day,  and  can  come  to  no  other  conclu- 
sion. Even  for  myself— if  I  may  speak  of  myself — it  is 
best.  I  do  not  wish  to  encroach  upon  his  mother's  rights 
— it  is  not  likely  I  should,"  added  the  earl,  with  a  some- 
what sad  smile ;  "  still,  it  is  hard  that  during  the  years, 
few  or  many,  that  I  have  to  live,  I,  a  childless  man, 
should  not  enjoy  a  little  of  the  comfort  of  a  son." 

Helen  sat  silent  with  averted  face.  It  was  all  quite 
true,  and  yet — 

"  I  will  tell  you,  to  make  all  clear,  the  position  I  wish 
Cardross  to  hold  with  regard  to  me — shall  I?" 

Mrs.  Bruce  assented. 

"  Into  his  mother's  place  he  can  never  step ;  I  do  not 
desire  it.  You  must  still  be,  as  you  have  always  been, 


A  Nolle  Life.  273 

and  I  shall  now  publicly  give  out  the  fact,  my  immediate 
successor ;  and,  except  for  a  stated  allowance,  to  be  doub- 
led when  he  marries,  which  I  hope  he  will,  and  early, 
Cardross  must  still  be  dependent  upon  his  mother  dur- 
ing her  lifetime.  Afterward  he  inherits  all.  But  there 
is  one  thing,"  he  continued,  seeing  that  Helen  did  not 
speak,  "  I  should  like :  it  would  make  me  happy  if,  on 
his  coming  of  age,  he  would  change  his  name,  or  add 
mine  to  it — be  Alexander  Cardross  Bruce-Montgomerie, 
or  simply  Alexander  Cardross  Montgomerie.  Which  do 
you  prefer?" 

Helen  meditated  long.  Many  a  change  came  and  went 
over  the  widow's  face  —  widowed  long  enough  for  time 
to  have  softened  down  all  things,  and  made  her  remem- 
ber only  the  young  days — the  days  of  a  girl's  first  love, 
It  might  have  been -so,  for  she  said  at  last,  almost  with  a 
gasp, 

"  I  wish  my  son  to  be  Bruce-Montgomerie." 

"Be  it  so." 

After  that  Lord  Cairnforth  was  long  silent. 

Helen  resumed  the  conversation  by  asking  if  he  did 
not  think  it  dangerous,  almost  wrong,  to  tell  the  boy  of 
this  brilliant  future  immediately  after  his  errors  ? 

"  No ;  not  after  errors  confessed  and  forsaken.  Ee- 
member,  it  was  over  very  rags  that  the  prodigal's  father 
put  upon  him  the  purple  robe.  But  our  boy  is  not  a 
prodigal,  Helen.  I  know  him  well,  and  I  have  faith  in 
him,  and  faith  in  human  nature  —  especially  Cardross 
nature."  And  the  earl  smiled.  "Far  deeper  than  any 
harshness  will  smite  him  the  consciousness  of  being  for- 
given and  trusted — of  being  expected  to  carry  out  in  his 

M  2 


274  A  Noble  Life. 

future  life  all  that  was  a-missing  in  two  not  particularly 
happy  lives,  his  mother's — and  mine." 

Helen  Bruce  resisted  no  more.  She  could  not.  She 
was  a  wise  woman — a  generous  and  loving-hearted  wom- 
an ;  still,  in  that  self-contained,  solitary  existence,  which 
had  been  spent  close  beside  her,  yet  into  the  mystery  of 
which  she  had  never  penetrated,  and  never  would  pene- 
trate, there  was  a  nearness  to  heaven  and  heavenly  things, 
and  a  clearness  of  vision  about  earthly  things  which  went 
far  beyond  her  own.  She  could  not  quite  comprehend 
it — she  would  never  have  thought  of  it  herself — but  she 
dimly  felt  that  the  earl's  judgment  was  correct,  and  that, 
strange  as  his  conduct  might  appear,  he  was  acting  after 
that  large  sense  of  Tightness  which  implies  righteousness ; 
a  course  of  action  which  the  world  so  often  ridicules  and 
misconstrues,  because  the  point  of  view  is  taken  from  an 
altitude  not  of  this  world,  and  the  objects  regarded  there- 
from are  things  not  visible,  but  invisible. 

Cardross  appeared  next  day — not  at  home,  but  at  the 
Castle,  and  was  closeted  there  for  several  hours  with  the 
earl  before  he  ever  saw  his  mother.  When  he  did — and 
it  was  he  who  came  to  her,  for  she  refused  to  take  one 
step  to  go  to  him—he  flung  himself  on  his  knees  before 
her  and  sobbed  in  her  lap  —  the  great  fellow  of  six  feet 
high  and  twenty  years  old — sobbed  and  prayed  for  for- 
giveness with  the  humility  of  a  child. 

"Oh,  mother,  mother  —  and  he  has  forgiven  me  too! 
To  think  what  he  has  done  for  me — what  he  is  about  to 
do — me,  who  have  had  no  father,  or  worse  than  none. 
Do  you  know,  sometimes  people  in  Edinburg — the  Men- 
teiths,  and  so  on  —  have  taunted  me  cruelly  about  my 
father?" 


A  Noble  Life.  275 

"And  what  do  you  answer?"  asked  Helen,  in  a  slow, 
cold  voice. 

"  That  he  was  my  father,  and  that  he  was  dead ;  and  I 
bade  them  speak  no  more  about  him." 

"  That  was  right,  my  son." 

Then  they  were  silent  till  Cardross  burst  out  again. 

"It  is  wonderful  —  wonderful !  I  can  hardly  believe 
it  yet — that  we  should  never  be  poor  any  more — you, 
mother,  who  have  gone  through  so  much,  and  I,  who 
thought  I  should  have  to  work  hard  all  my  days  for  both 
of  us.  And  I  will  work !"  cried  the  boy,  as  he  tossed 
back  his  curls  and  lifted  up  to  his  mother  a  face  that  in 
brightness  and  energy  was  the  very  copy  of  her  own,  or 
what  hers  used  to  be.  "  I'll  show  you,  and  the  earl  too, 
how  hard  I  can  work — as  hard  as  if  for  daily  bread.  I'll 
do  every  thing  he  wishes  me — I'll  be  his*  right  hand,  as 
he  says.  I  will  make  a  name  for  myself  and  him  too — 
mother,  you  know  I  am  to  bear  his  name?" 

"Yes,  my  boy." 

"And  I  am  glad  to  bear  it.  I  told  him  so.  He  shall 
be  proud  of  me  yet,  and  you  too.  Oh,  mother,  mother,  I 
will  never  vex  you  again." 

And  once  more  his  voice  broke  into  sobs,  and  Helen's 
too,  as  she  clasped  him  close,  and  felt  that  whatever  God 
had  taken  away  from  her,  He  had  given  her  as  much — 
and  more. 

Mother  and  son  —  widowed  mother  and  only  son — 
there  is  something  in  the  tie  unlike  all  others  in  the 
world — not  merely  in  its  blessedness,  but  in  its  divine 
compensations. 

Helen  waited  till  her  father  had  retired,  which  he  often 


276  A  Noble  Life. 

did -quite  early,  for  the  days  were  growing  too  long  for 
him,  with  whom  every  one  of  them  was  numbered;  and 
he  listened  to  the  wonderful  news  which  his  grandson 
told  him  with  the  even  smile  of  old  age,  which  nothing 
now  either  grieves  or  surprises. 

"You'll  not  be  going  to  live  at  the  Castle,  though,  not 
while  I  am  alive,  Helen  ?"  was  his  first  uneasy  thought. 
But  his  daughter  soon  quieted  it,  and  saw  him  to  his  bed, 
as  she  did  every  evening,  bidding  him  good-night,  and 
kissing  his  placid  brow — placid  as  a  child's — -just  as  if  he 
had  been  her  child  instead  of  her  father.  Then  she  took 
her  son's  arm — such  a  stalwart  arm  now,  and  walked 
with  him  through  the  bright  moonlight,  clear  as  day,  to 
Cairnforth  Castle. 

When  they  entered  the  library  they  found  the  earl  sit- 
ting in  his  usual  place,  and  engaged  in  his  usual  evening 
occupation,  which  he  sometimes  called  "  the  hard  labor 
of  doing  nothing ;"  for,  though  he  was  busy  enough  in 
the  daytime  with  a  young  man  he  had  as  secretary — his 
faithful  old  friend,  Mr.  Mearns,  having  lately  died — still, 
he  generally  spent  his  evenings  alone.  Malcolm  lurked 
within  call,  in  case  he  wanted  any  thing ;  but  he  rarely 
did.  Often  he  would  pass  hours  at  a  time  sitting  as  now, 
with  his  feeble  hands  folded  on  his  lap,  his  head  bent, 
and  his  eyes  closed,  or  else  open  and  looking  out  straight 
before  him  —  calmly,  but  with  an  infinite  yearning  in 
them  that  would  have  seemed  painful  to  those  who  did 
not  know  how  peaceful  his  inmost  nature  was. 

But  at  the  first  sound  of  his  visitors'  footsteps  he  turn- 
ed round — that  is,  he  turned  his  little  chair  round — and 
welcomed  them  heartily  and  brightly. 


A  Noble  Life.  277 

A  little  ordinary  talk  ensued,  in  the  which  Cardross 
scarcely  joined.  The  young  man  was  not  himself  at  all 
— silent,  abstracted ;  and  there  was  an  expression  in  his 
face  which  almost  frightened  his  mother,  so  solemn  was 
it,  yet  withal  so  exceedingly  sweet. 

The  earl  had  been  right  in  his  conclusions ;  he,  with 
his  keen  insight  into  character,  had  judged  Cardross  bet- 
ter than  the  boy's  own  mother  would  have  done  Those 
brilliant  prospects,  that  total  change  in  his  expected  fu- 
ture, which  might  have  dazzled  a  lower  nature  and  sent 
it  all  astray,  made  this  boy — Helen's  boy,  with  Helen's 
nature  strong  in  him,  only  the  more  sensible  of  his  defi- 
ciencies as  well  as  his  responsibilities — humble,  self-dis- 
trustful, and  full  of  doubts  and  fears.  Ten  years  seemed 
to  have  passed  over  his  head  since  morning,  changing 
him  from  a  boy  into  a  sedate,  thoughtful  man. 

Lord  Cairnforth  noticed  this,  as  he  noticed  every  thing ; 
and  at  last,  seeing  the  young  heart  was  too  full  almost  to 
bear  much  talking,  he  said  kindly, 

"  Cardross,  give  your  mother  that  arm-chair ;  she  looks 
very  wearied.  And  then,  would  you  mind  having  a  con- 
sultation with  Malcolm  about  those  salmon-weirs  at  the 
head  of  Loch  Mhor?  I  know  he  is  longing  to  open  his 
heart  to  you  on  the  subject.  Go,  my  boy,  and  don't  hur- 
ry back.  I  want  to  have  a  good  long  talk  with  your 
mother." 

Cardross  obeyed.  The  two  friends  looked  after  him 
as  he  walked  down  the  room  with  his  light,  active  step, 
and  graceful,  gentlemanly  figure — a  youth  who  seemed 
born  to  be  heir  to  all  the  splendors  around  him.  Helen 
clasped  her  hands  tightly  together  on  her  lap,  and  her 


278  A  Noble  Life. 

lips  moved.  She  did  not  speak,  but  the  earl  almost 
seemed  to  hear  the  great  outcry  of  the  mother's  heart 
going  up  to  God — "Give  any  thing  Thou  wilt  to  me, 
only  give  him  all !"  Alas !  that  such  a  cry  should  ever 
fall  back  to  earth  in  the  other  pitiful  moan,  "Would 
God  that  I  had  died  for  thee,  O  Absalom,  my  son — my 
son!" 

But  it  was  not  to  be  so  with  Helen  Bruce.  Her  son 
was  no  Absalom.  Her  days  of  sorrow  were  ended. 

Lord  Cairnforth  saw  how  violently  affected  she  was, 
and  began  to  talk  to  her  in  a  commonplace  and  practical 
manner  about  all  that  he  and  Cardross  had  been  arrang- 
ing that  morning. 

"And  I  must  say  that,  though  he  will  never  shine  at 
college,  and  probably  his  grandfather  would  mourn  over 
him  as  having  no  learning,  there  is  an  amount  of  solid 
sense  about  the  fellow  with  which  I  am  quite  delighted. 
He  is  companionable  too — knows  how  to  make  use  of  his 
acquirements.  Whatever  light  he  possesses,  he  will  never 
hide  it  under  a  bushel,  which  is,  perhaps,  the  best  quali- 
fication for  the  position  that  he  will  one  day  hold.  I 
have  no  fear  about  Cardross.  He  will  be  an  heir  after 
my  own  heart — will  accomplish  all  I  wished,  and  possi- 
bly a  little  more." 

Mrs.  Bruce  answered  only  by  tears. 

"But  there  is  one  thing  which  he  and  I  have  settled 
between  us,  subject  to  your  approval,  of  course.  He 
must  go  back  to  college  immediately." 

"ToEdinburg?" 

"Do  not  look  so  alarmed,  Helen.  No,  not  to  Edin- 
burg.  It  is  best  to  break  off  all  associations  there — he 


A  Noble  Life.  279 

wishes  it  himself.  He  would  like  to  go  to  a  new  Uni- 
versity— St.  Andrew's." 

"  But  he  knows  nobody  there.  He  would  be  quite 
alone.  For  I  can  not — do  you  not  see  I  can  not  ? — leave 
my  father.  Oh,  it  is  like  being  pulled  in  two,"  cried 
Mrs.  Bruce,  in  great  distress. 

"  Be  patient,  Helen,  and  hear.  We  have  arranged  it 
all,  the  boy  and  I.  Next  week  we  are  both  bound  for 
St.  Andrew's." 

"You?" 

"You  think  I  shall  be  useless?  that  it  is  a  man,  and 
not  such  a  creature  as  I,  who  ought  to  take  charge  of 
your  boy  ?" 

The  earl  spoke  with  that  deep  bitterness  which  some- 
times, though  very,  very  rarely,  he  betrayed,  till  he  saw 
what  exceeding  pain  he  had  given. 

"  Forgive  me,  Helen ;  I  know  you  did  not  mean  that ; 
but  it  was  what  I  myself  often  thought  until  this  morn- 
ing. Now  I  see  that  after  all  I— even  I — may  be  the 
very  best  person  to  go  with  the  boy,  because,  while  keep- 
ing a  safe  watch  over  him,  and  a  cheerful  house  always 
open  to  him,  I  shall  also  give  him  somebody  to  take  care 
of.  I  shall  be  as  much  charge  to  him  almost  as  a  wom- 
an, and  it  will  be  good  for  him.  Do  you  not  perceive 
this?" 

Helen  did,  clearly  enough. 

"Besides,"  continued  the  earl,  "I  might,  perhaps,  like 
to  see  the  world  myself— just  once  again.  At  any  rate, 
I  shall  like  to  see  it  through  this  young  man's  eyes.  He 
has  not  told  you  of  our  plan  yet?" 

"Not  a  word." 


280  A  Noble  Life. 

"  That  is  well.  I  like  to  see  lie  can  keep  faith.  I 
made  him  promise  not,  because  I  wanted  to  tell  you  my- 
self, Helen  —  I  wanted  to  see  how  you  would  take  the 
plan.  Will  you  let  us  go?  That  is,  the  boy  must  go, 
and — you  will  do  without  me  for  a  year?" 

"A  whole  year!  Can  not  Cardross  come  home  once 
— -just  once?" 

"  Yes,  I  will  manage  it  so ;  he  shall  come,  even  if  I  can 
not,"  replied  the  earl,  and  then  was  silent. 

"And  you,"  said  Mrs.  Bruce,  suddenly,  after  a  long 
meditation  upon  her  son  and  his  future,  "  you  leave,  for 
a  year,  your  home,  your  pleasant  life  here ;  you  change 
all  your  pursuits  and  plans,  and  give  yourself  no  end  of 
trouble,  just  to  go  and  watch  over  my  boy,  and  keep  his 
mother's  heart  from  aching !  How  can  I  ever  thank  you 
— ever  reward  you  ?" 

Ko,  she  never  could. 

"It  is  an  ugly  word,  'reward ;'  I  don't  like  it.  And, 
Helen,  I  thought  thanks  were  long  since  set  aside  as  un- 
necessary between  you  and  me." 

"And  you  will  be  absent  a  whole  year?" 

"  Probably,  or  a  little  more ;  for  the  boy  ought  to  keep 
two  sessions  at  least ;  and  locomotion  is  not  so  easy  to 
me  as  it  is  to  Cardross.  Yes,  my  dear,  you  will  have  to 
part  with  me — I  mean  I  shall  have  to  part  with  you — for 
a  year.  It  is  a  long  time  in  our  short  lives.  I  would 
not  do  it — give  myself  the  pain  of  it — for  any  thing  in 
this  world  except  to  make  Helen  happy." 

"  Thank  you ;  I  know  that." 

But  Helen,  full  of  her  son  and  his  prospects — her  youth 
renewed  in  his  youth,  her  life  absorbed  in  his,  seeming  to 


A  Noble  Life.  281 

stretch  out  to  a  future  where  there  was  no  ending,  knew 
not  half  of  what  she  thanked  him  for. 

She  yielded  to  all  the  earl's  plans ;  and  after  so  many 
years  of  resistance,  bowed  her  independent  spirit  to  ac- 
cept his  bounty  with  a  humility  of  gratitude  that  was  al- 
most painful  to  both,  until  a  few  words  of  his  led  her  to, 
and  left  her  in  the  belief  that  he  was  doing  what  was 
agreeable  to  himself — that  he  really  did  enjoy  the  idea 
of  a  long  sojourn  at  St.  Andrew's ;  and,  mother-like, 
when  she  was  satisfied  on  this  head,  she  began  almost  to 
envy  him  the  blessing  of  her  boy's  constant  society. 

So  she  agreed  to  all  his  plans  cheerfully,  contentedly, 
as  indeed  she  had  good  reason  to  be  contented;  thank- 
fully accepted  every  thing,  and  never  for  a  moment  sus- 
pected that  she  was  accepting  a  sacrifice. 


tjit 


DURING  a  whole  year  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth  and  Mr. 
Bruce-Montgomerio — for,  as  soon  as  possible,  Cardross 
legally  assumed  the  name — resided  at  that  fairest  of  an- 
cient cities  and  pleasantest  of  Scotch  Universities,  St. 
Andrew's. 

A  few  of  the  older  inhabitants  may  still  remember  the 
house  the  earl  occupied  there,  the  society  with  which  he 
filled  it,  and  the  general  mode  of  life  carried  on  by  him- 
self and  his  adopted  son.  Some  may  recall — for  indeed 
it  was  not  easy  to  forget — the  impression  made  in  the 
good  old  town  by  the  two  new-comers  when  they  first 
appeared  in  the  quiet  streets,  along  the  Links  and  on  the 
West  Sands — every  where  that  the  little  carriage  could 
be  drawn.  A  strange  contrast  they  were — the  small  fig- 
ure in  the  pony-chair,  and  the  tall  young  man  walking 
beside  it  in  all  the  vigor,  grace,  and  activity  of  his  bloom- 
ing youth.  Two  companions  pathetically  unlike,  and 
yet  always  seen  together,  and  evidently  associating  with 
one  another  from  pure  love. 

They  lived  for  some  time  in  considerable  seclusion,  for 
the  earl's  rank  and  wealth  at  first  acted  as  a  bar  to  much 
seeking  of  his  acquaintance  among  the  proud  and  poor 
University  professors  and  old-fashioned  inhabitants  of 
the  city ;  and  Cardross,  being  the  senior  of  most  of  tho 


286  A  Noble  Life. 

college  lads,  did  not  cultivate^  them  much.  By  degrees, 
however,  he  became  well-know^. — not  as  a  hard  student 
— that  was  not  his  line — he  never  took  any  high  college 
honors ;  but  he  was  the  best  golfer,  the  most  dashing 
rider,  the  boldest  swimmer — he  saved  more  than  one  life 
on  that  dangerous  shore ;  and,  before  the  session  was  half 
over,  he  was  the  most  popular  youth  in  the  whole  Uni- 
versity. But  he  would  leave  every  thing,  or  give  up 
every  thing — both  his  studies  and  his  pleasures — to  sit, 
patient  as  a  girl,  beside  the  earl's  chair,  or  to  follow  it — 
often  guiding  it  himself —  up  and  dow*n  St.  Andrews' 
streets;  never  heeding  who  looked  at  him,  or  what  com- 
ments were  made — as  they  were  sure  to  be  made — upon 
him,  until  what  was  at  first  so  strange  and  touching  a 
sight  grew  at  last  familiar  to  the  whole  town. 

Of  course,  very  soon  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case 
came  out,  probably  with  many  imaginary  additions, 
though  the  latter  never  reached  the  ears  of  the  two  con- 
cerned. Still,  the  tale  was  romantic  and  pathetic  enough 
to  make  the  earl  and  his  young  heir  objects  of  marked 
interest,  and  welcome  guests  in  the  friendly  hospitalities 
of  the  place,  which  hospitalities  were  gladly  requited,  for 
Lord  Cairnforth  still  keenly  enjoj^ed  society,  and  Card- 
ross  was  at  an  age  when  all  pleasure  is  attractive. 

People  said  sometimes,  What  a  lucky  fellow  was  Mr. 
Bruce  -  Montgomerie !  But  they  also  said  —  as  no  one 
could  help  seeing  and  saying — that  very  few  fathers  were, 
blessed  with  a  son  half  so  attentive  and  devoted  as  this 
young  man  was  to  the  Earl  of  Cairnforth. 

And  meantime  Helen  Bruce  lived  quietly  at  the  Manse, 
devoting  herself  to  the  care  of  her  father,  who  still  lin- 


A  Noble  Life.  287 

gered  on,  feeble  in  body,  though  retaining  -post  of  his 
faculties,  as  though,  deat^'were  unwilling  to  end  a  life 
which  had  so  much  of  peace  and  enjoyment  in  it  to  the 
very  last.  When  the';. session  was  over,  Cardross  went 
home  to  see  his  mother;  and -grandfather,  and  on  his  re- 
turn Lord  Cairnforth  listened  eagerly  to  all  the  accounts 
of  Cairnforth,  and  especially  of  all  that  Mrs.  Bruce  was 
doing  there ;  she,  as  the  person  most  closely  acquainted 
with  the  earl's  affairs,  having  been  constituted  regent  in 
his  absence. 

"  She's  a  wonderful  woman — my  mother,"  said  Card- 
ross, with  great  admiration.  "She  has  the  sense  of  a 
man,  and  the  tact  of  a  woman.  She  is  doing  every  thing 
about  the  estate  almost  as  cleverly  as  you  would  do  it 
yourself." 

"Is  she?  It  is  good  practice  for  her,"  said  the  earl. 
"She  will  need  it  soon." 

Cardross  looked  at  him.  He  had  never  till  then  no- 
ticed, what  other  people  began  to  notice,  how  exceeding- 
ly old  the  earl  now  looked,  his  small,  delicate  features 
withering  up  almost  like  those  of  an  elderly  man,  though 
he  was  not  much  past  forty. 

"You  don't  mean — oh  no,  not  that!  You  must  not 
be  thinking  of  that.  My  mother's  rule  at  Cairnforth  is  a 
long  way  off  yet."  And — big  fellow  as  he  was — the  lad's 
jsyes  filled  with  tears. 

.  After  that  day  he  refused  all  holiday  excursions  in 
which  Lord  Cairnforth  could  not  accompany  him.  It 
was  only  by  great  persuasion  that  he  agreed  to  go  for  a 
week  to  Edinburg,  to  revisit  his  old  haunts  there,  to  look 
on  the  "ugly  fields  where  he  had  sown  his  wild  oats,  and 


288  A  Noble  Life. 

prove  to  even  respectable  and  incredulous  Uncle  Alick 
that  there  was  no  fear  of  their  ever  sprouting  up  again. 
Also,  Lord  Cairnforth  took  the  opportunity  to  introduce 
his  cousin  into  his  own  set  of  Edinburg  friends,  to  famil- 
iarize the  young  man  with  the  society  in  which  he  must 
shortly  take  his  place,  and  to  hear  from  them,  what  he 
so  warmly  believed  himself,  that  Cardross  was  fitted  to 
be  heir  to  any  property  in  all  Scotland. 

"What  a  pity,"  some  added, "  that  he  could  not  be  heir 
to  the  earldom  also !"  "  No,"  said  others,  "better  that 
'  the  wee  earl'  (as  old-fashioned  folk  still  sometimes  called 
him)  should  be  the  last  Earl  of  Cairnforth." 

With  the  exception  of  those  two  visits,  during  a  whole 
twelvemonth  the  earl  and  his  adopted  son  we're  scarcely 
parted  for  a  single  day.  Years  afterward,  Cardross  loved 
to  relate,  first  to  his  mother,  and  then  to  his  children, 
sometimes  with  laughter,  and  again  with  scarcely  re- 
pressed tears,  many  an  anecdote  of  the  life  they  two  led 
together  at  St.  Andrew's — a  real  student  life,  yet  filled  at 
times  with  the  gayest  amusements.  For  the  earl  loved 
gayety — actual  mirth;  sometimes  he  and  Cardross  were 
as  full  of  jests  and  pranks  as  two  children,  and  at  other 
times  they  held  long  conversations  upon  all  manner  of 
grave  and  earnest  topics,  like  equal  friends.  It  was  the 
sort  of  companionship,  free  and  tender,  cheerful  and 
bright,  yet  with  all  the  influence  of  the  elder  over  the 
younger,  which,  occurring  to  a  young  man  of  Cardross's 
age  and  temperament,  usually  determines  his  character 
for  life. 

Thus,  day  by  day,  Helen's  son  developed  and  matured, 
becoming  more  and  more  a  thorough  Cardross,  sound  to 


A  Nolle  Life.  289 

the  core,  and  yet  polished  outside  in  a  manner  which  had 
not  been  the  lot  of  any  of  the  earlier  generation,  save  the 
minister.  Also,  he  had  a  certain  winning  way  with  him 
—a  power  of  suiting  himself  to  every  bod}7,  and  pleasing 
every  body — which  even  his  mother,  who  only  pleased 
those  she  loved  or  those  that  loved  her,  had  never  pos- 
sessed. 

"  It's  his  father's  way  he  has,  ye  ken,"  Malcolm  would 
say — Malcolm,  who,  after  a  season  of  passing  jealousy, 
had  for  years  succumbed  wholly  to  his  admiration  of- 
"Miss  Helen's  bairn."  "But  it's  the  only  bit  o'  the 
Bruces  that  the  lad's  gotten  in  him,  thank  the  Lord !" 

Though  the  earl  did  not  say  openly  "  thank  the  Lord," 
still  he,  too,  recognized  with  a  solemn  joy  that  the  qual- 
ities he  and  Helen  dreaded  had  either  not  been  inherited 
by  Captain  Bruce's  son,  or  else  timely  care  had  rooted 
them  out.  And  as  he  gradually  relaxed  his  watch  over 
the  young  man,  and  left  him  more  and  more  to  his  own 
guidance,  Lord  Cairnforth,  sitting  alone  in  his  house  at 
St.  Andrew's — almost  as  much  alone  as  he  used  to  sit 
in  the  Castle  library  —  would  think,  with  a  strange  con- 
solation, that  this  year's  heavy  sacrifice  had  not  been  in 
vain. 

Once  Cardross,  coming  in  from  a  long  golfing  match, 
broke  upon  one  of  these  meditative  fits,  and  was  a  little 
surprised  to  find  that  the  earl  did  not  rouse  himself  out 
of  it  quite  so  readily  as  was  his  wont ;  also  that  the  end- 
less college  stories,  which  he  always  liked  so  much  to 
listen  to,  fell  rather  blank,  arid  did  not  meet  Lord  Cairn- 
forth's  hearty  laugh,  as  gay  as  that  of  a  young  fellow 
who  could  share  and  sympathize  in  them  all. 

N 


290  A  Noble  Life. 

"You  are  not  well  to-day,"  suddenly  said  the  lad. 
"  What  have  you  been  doing?" 

"My  usual  work — nothing." 

"But  you  have  been  thinking.  What  about?"  cried 
Cardross,  with  the  affectionate  persistency  of  one  who 
knew  himself  a  favorite,  and  looking  up  in  the  earl's  face 
with  his  bright,  fond  eyes — Helen's  very  eyes. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  your  mother,  my  boy.  You  know 
it  is  a  whole  year  since  I  have  seen  your  mother." 

"  So  she  said  in  her  last  letter,  and  wondered  when 
you  intended  coming  home,  because  she  misses  you  more 
and  more  every  day." 

"  You,  she  means,  Carr." 

"  No,  yourself.  I  know  my  mother  wishes  you  would 
come  home." 

"  Does  she  ?  And  so  do  I.  But  I  should  have  to 
leave  you  alone,xmy  boy ;  for  if  once  I  make  the  effort, 
and  return  to  Cairnforth,  I  know  I  shall  never  quit  it 
more." 

He  spoke  earnestly — more  so  than  the  occasion  seemed 
to  need,  and  there  was  a  weary  look  in  his  eyes  which 
struck  his  companion. 

"Are  you  afraid  to  leave  me  alone, Lord  Cairnforth?" 
asked  Cardross,  sadly. 

"  No."  And  again,  as  if  he  had  not  answered  strongly 
enough,  he  repeated,  "  My  dear  boy,  no !" 

"Thank  you.  You  never  said  it,  but  I  knew.  You 
came  here  for  my  sake,  to  take  charge  of  me.  You  made 
me  happy — you  never  blamed  me — you  neither  watched 
men  or  domineered  over  me — still,  I  knew.  Oh,  how 
good  you  have  been !" 


A  Noble  Life.  291 

Lord  Cairnforth  did  not  speak  for  some  time,  and  then 
he  said,  gravely, 

"  However  things  were  at  first,  you  must  feel,  my  boy, 
that  I  trust  you  now  entirely,  and  that  you  and  I  are 
thorough  friends — equal  friends." 

"Not  equal.  Oh,  never  in  my  whole  life  shall  I  be 
half  as  good  as  you !  But  I'll  try  hard  to  be  as  good 
as  I  can.  And  I  shall  be  always  beside  you.  Bemember 
your  promise." 

This  was,  that  after  he  came  of  age,  and  ended  his 
University  career,  instead  of  taking  "the  grand  tour," 
like  most  young  heirs  of  the  period,  Cardross  should  set- 
tle down  at  home,  in  the  character  of  Lord  Cairnforth'a 
private  secretary — always  at  hand,  and  ready  in  every 
possible  way  to  lighten  the  burden  of  business  which, 
even  as  a  young  man,  the  earl  had  found  heavy  enough, 
and  as  an  old  man  he  would  be  unable  to  bear. 

"I  shall  never  be  clever,  I  know  that,"  pleaded  the 
lad,  who  was  learning  a  touching  humility,  "  but  I  may 
be  useful ;  and  oh !  if  you  would  but  use  me,  in  any 
thing  or  every  thing,  I'd  work  day  and  night  for  you — 
I  would  indeed !" 

"I  know  you  would,  my  son"  (the  earl  sometimes 
called  him  "my  son"  when  they  were  by  themselves), 
"  and  so  you  shall." 

That  evening  Lord  Cairnforth  dictated  to  Helen,  by 
her  boy's  hand,  one  of  his  rare  letters,  telling  her  that  he 
and  Cardross  would  return  home  in  time  for  the  latter's 
birthday,  which  would  be  in  a  month  from  now,  and 
which  he  wished  kept  with  all  the  honors  customary  to 
the  coming  of  age  of  an  heir  of  Cairnforth. 


292  A  Nolle  Life. 

"  Heir  of  Cairnforth  I"     The  lad  started,  and  stopped 


writing. 


"It  must  be  so,  my  son ;  I  wish  it.  After  your  moth 
er,  you  are  my  heir,  and  I  shall  honor  you  as  such ;  aft- 
erward you  will  return  here  alone,  and  stay  till  the  ses- 
sion is  over ;  then  come  back,  and  live  with  me  at  the 
Castle,  and  fit  yourself  in  every  way  to  become — what  I 
can  now  wholly  trust  you  to  be — the  future  master  of 
Cairnforth." 

And  so,  as  soon  as  the  earl's  letter  reached  the  penin- 
sula, the  rejoicings  began.  The  tenantry  knew  well 
enough  who  the  earl  had  fixed  upon  to  come  after  him, 
but  this  was  his  first  public  acknowledgment  of  the  fact. 
Helen's  position,  as  heiress  presumptive,  was  regarded  as 
merely  nominal ;  it  was  her  son,  the  fine  young  fellow 
whom  every  body  knew  from  his  babyhood,  toward 
whom  the  loyalty  of  the  little  community  blazed  up  in 
a  height  of  feudal  devotion  that  was  touching  to  see. 
The  warm  Scotch  heart — all  the  warmer,  perhaps,  for  a 
certain  narrowness  and  clannishness,  which  in  its  pride 
would  probably,  nay,  certainly,  have  shut  itself  up  against 
a  stranger  or  an  inferior — opened  freely  to  "  Miss  Helen's" 
son  and  the  minister's  grandson,  a  young  man  known  to 
all  and  approved  by  all. 

So  the  festivity  was  planned  to  be  just  the  earl's  com- 
ing of  age  over  again,  with  the  difference  between  June 
and  December,  which  removed  the  feasting-place  from 
the  lawn  to  the  great  kitchen  of  the  Castle,  and  caused 
bonfires  on  the  hill-tops  to  be  a  very  doubtful  mode  of 
jubilation.  The  old  folk — young  then — who  remem- 
bered the  bright  summer  festival  of  twenty-four  years 


A  Noble  Life.  293 

ago  told  many  a  tale  of  that  day,  and  how  the  "  puir  wee 
earl"  came  forward  in  his  little  chair  and  made  his  brief 
speech,  every  word  and  every  promise  of  which  his  after 
life  had  so  faithfully  fulfilled. 

"The  heir's  a  wise-like  lad,  and  a  braw  lad,"  said  the 
old  folks  of  the  clachan,  patronizingly.  u  He's  no  that 
ill  the  noo,  and  he'll  aiblins  grow  better,  ye  ken ;  but  nae- 
body  that  comes  after  will  be  like  him.  "We'll  ne'er  see 
anither  Earl  o'  Cairnforth." 

The  same  words  which  Mr.  Menteith  and  the  rest  had 
said  when  the  earl  was  born,  but  with  what  a  different 
meaning ! 

Lord  Cairnforth  came  back  among  his  own  people 
amid  a  transport  of  welcome.  Though  he  had  been  long 
away,  Mrs.  Bruce  and  other  assistants  had  carried  out  his 
plans  and  orders  so  successfully  that  the  estate  had  not 
suffered  for  his  absence.  In  the  whole  extent  of  it  was 
now  little  or  no  poverty ;  none  like  that  which,  in  his 
youth,  had  startled  Lord  Cairnforth  into  activity  upon 
hearing  the  story  of  the  old  shepherd  of  Loch  Mhor. 
There  was  plenty  of  work,  and  hands  to  do  it,  along  the 
shores  of  both  lochs ;  new  farms  had  sprung  up,  and  new 
roads  been  made ;  churches  and  schools  were  built  as  oc- 
casion required ;  and  though  the  sheep  had  been  driven 
a  little  higher  up  the  mountains,  and  the  deer  and  grouse 
fled  farther  back  into  the  inland  moors,  still  Cairnforth 
village  was  a  lovely  spot,  inhabited  by  a  contented  com- 
munity. Civilization  could  bring  to  it  no  evils  that  were 
not  counteracted  by  two  strong  influences  —  (stronger 
than  any  one  can  conceive  who  does  not  understand  the 
peculiarities  almost  feudal  in  their  simplicity,  of  country 


294  A  Noble  Life. 

parish  life  in  Scotland) — a  minister  like  Mr.  Cardross, 
and  a  resident  proprietor  like  the  Earl  of  Cairnfortb. 

The  earl  arrived  a  few  days  before  the  festival  day,  and 
spent  the  time  in  going  over  his  whole  property  from  one 
end  to  the  other.  He  took  Mrs.  Bruce  with  him.  "  I 
can't  want  you  for  a  day  now,  Helen,"  said  he,  and  made 
her  sit  beside  him  in  his  carriage,  which,  by  dint  of  vari- 
ous modern  appliances,  he  could  now  travel  in  far  easier 
than  he  used  to  do,  or  else  asked  her  to  drive  him  in  the 
old  familiar  pony-chaise  along  the  old  familiar  hill-side 
roads,  whence  you  look  down  on  either  loch — sometimes 
on  both — lying  like  a  sheet  of  silver  below. 

Many  a  drive  they  took  every  day,  the  weather  being 
still  and  calm,  as  it  often  is  at  Cairnforth,  by  fits  and 
matches,  all  winter  through. 

"  I  think  there  never  was  such  a  place  as  this  place," 
the  earl  would  often  say,  when  he  stopped  at  particular 
points  of  view,  and  gazed  his  fill  on  every  well-known 
outline  of  the  hills  and  curve  of  the  lochs,  generally  end- 
ing with  a  smiling  look  on  the  face  beside  him,  equally 
familiar,  which  had  watched  all  these  things  with  him  for 
more  than  thirty  years.  "  Helen,  I  have  had  a  happy 
life,  or  it  seems  so,  looking  back  upon  it.  Kemember,  I 
said  this,  and  let  no  one  ever  say  the  contrary." 

And  in  all  the  houses  they  visited — farm,  cottage,  or 
bothie — every  body  noticed  how  exceedingly  happy  the 
carl  looked,  how  cheerfully  he  spoke,  and  how  full  of  in- 
terest he  was  in  every  thing  around  him. 

"His  lordship  may  live  to  be  an  auld  man  yet,"  said 
some  one  to  Malcolm,  and  Malcolm  indignantly  repudi- 
ated the  possibility  of  any  thing  else. 


A  Noble  Life.  295 

The  minister  was  left  a  little  lonely  during  this  week 
of  Lord  Cairnforth's  coming  home,  but  he  did  not  seem 
to  feel  it.  He  felt  nothing  very  much  now  except  pleas- 
ure in  the  sunshine  and  the  fire,  in  looking  at  the  outside 
of  his  books,  now  rarely  opened,  and  in  watching  the 
bright  faces  around  him.  He  was  made  to  understand 
what  a  grand  festival  was  to  be  held  at  Cairnforth,  and 
the  earl  took  especial  pains  to  arrange  that  the  feeble 
octogenarian  should  be  brought  to  the  Castle  without 
fatigue,'  and  enabled  to  appear  both  at  the  tenants'  feast 
in  the  kitchen,  and  the  more  formal  banquet  of  friends 
and  neighbors  in  the  hall — the  grand  old  dining-room — 
which  was  arranged  exactly  as  it  had  been  on  the  earl's 
coming  of  age. 

However,  there  was  a  difference.  Then  the  board  was 
almost  empty,  now  it  was  quite  full.  With  a  carefulness 
that  at  the  time  Helen  almost  wondered  at,  the  earl  col- 
lected about  him  that  day  the  most  brilliant  gathering  he 
could  invite  from  all  the  country  round — people  of  fam- 
ily, rank,  and  wealth — above  all,  people  of  worth  ;  who, 
either  by  inherited  position,  or  that  high  character  which 
is  the  best  possession  of  all,  could  confer  honor  by  their 
presence,  and  who,  since  "a  man  is  known  by  his  friends," 
would  be  suitable  and  creditable  friends  to  a  young  man 
just  entering  the  world. 

And  before  all  these,  with  Helen  sitting  as  mistress  at 
the  foot  of  the  table,  and  Helen's  father  at  his  right  hand, 
the  Earl  of  Cairnforth  introduced,  in  a  few  simple  words, 
his  chosen  heir. 

''Deliberately  chosen,"  he  added;  "not  merely  as  be- 
ing my  cousin  and  my  nearest  of  kin,  but  because  he  is 


296  A  Noble  Life. 

his  mother's  son,  and  Mr.  Cardross's  grandson,  and  wor« 
thy  of  them  both — also  because,  for  his  own  sake,  I  re- 
spect him,  and  I  love  him.  I  give  you  the  health  of  Al- 
exander Cardross  Bruce-Montgomerie." 

And  then  they  all  wished  the  young  man  joy,  and  the 
dining-hall  of  Cairnforth  Castle  rang  with  hearty  cheers 
for  Mr.  Bruce-Montgomerie. 

No  more  speeches  were  made,  for  it  was  noticed  that 
Lord  Cairnforth  looked  excessively  wearied ;  but  he  kept 
his  place  to  the  last.  Of  the  many  brilliant  circles  that 
he  had  entertained  at  his  hospitable  board,  none  were 
ever  more  brilliant  than  this ;  none  gayer,  with  the  gen- 
ial, wholesome  gayety  which  the  earl,  of  whom  it  might 
truly  be  said, 

"A  merrier  man 
I  never  spent  an  hour's  talk  withal," 

knew  so  well  how  to  scatter  around  him.  By  what  magic 
he  did  this,  no  one  ever  quite  found  out ;  but  it  was  done, 
and  especially  so  on  this  night  of  all  nights,  when,  after 
his  long  absence,  he  came  back  to  his  own  ancestral  home, 
and  appeared  again  among  his  own  neighbors  and  friends. 
They  long  remembered  it — and  him. 

At  length  the  last  carriage  rolled  away,  and  shortly 
afterward  the  wind  began  suddenly  to  rise  and  howl 
wildly  round  the  Castle.  There  came  on  one  of  those 
wild  winter-storms,  common  enough  in  these  regions — 
brief,  but  fierce  while  they  last. 

"You  can  not  go  home,"  said  the  earl  to  Mrs.  Bruce, 
who  remained  with  him,  the  minister  having  departed 
with  his  son  Duncan  early  in  the  evening.  "  Stay  here 
till  to-morrow.  Cardross,  persuade  your  mother.  You 


A  NoUe  Life.  297 

never  yet  spent  a  night  under  my  roof.  Helen,  will  you 
do  it  this  once  ?  I  shall  never  ask  you  again." 

There  was  an  earnest  entreaty  in  his  manner  which 
Helen  could  not  resist ;  and,  hardly  knowing  why  she 
did  it,  she  consented.  Her  son  went  off  to  his  bed,  fairly 
worn  out  with  pleasurable  excitement,  and  she  staid  with 
Lord  Cairnforth,  as  he  seemed  to  wish,  for  another  half 
hour.  They  sat  by  the  library  fire,  listening  to  the  rain 
beating  and  the  wind  howling  —  not  continuously,  but 
coming  and  going  in  frantic  blasts,  which  seemed  like  the 
voices  of  living  creatures  borne  on,  its  wings. 

"  Do  you  mind,  Helen,  it  was  just  such  a  night  as  this 
when  Mr.  Menteith  died,  before  I  went  to  Edinburg?  The 
sort  of  wind  that,  they  say,  is  always  sent  to  call  away 
souls.  I  know  not  why  it  is,  or  why  there  should  be  any 
connection  between  things  material  and  immaterial,  com- 
prehensible and  wholly  incomprehensible,  but  I  often  sit 
here  and  fancy  I  should  like  my  soul  to  be  called  away 
in  just  such  a  tempest  as  this — to  be  set  free, 

4 ' '  And  on  the  wings  of  mighty  winds 
Go  flying  all  abroad,' 

as  the  psalm  has  it.  It  would  be  glorious — glorious !  sud- 
denly to  find  one's  self  strong,  active — cumbered  with  no 
burden  of  a  body — to  be  all  spirit,  and  spirit  only." 

As  the  earl  spoke,  his  whole  face,  withered  and  worn 
as  it  was,  lighted  up  and  glowed,  Helen  thought,  almost 
like  what  one  could  imagine  a  disembodied  soul. 

She  answered  nothing,  for  she  could  find  nothing  to 
say.  Her  quiet,  simple  faith  was  almost  frightened  at 
the  passionate  intensity  of  his,  and  the  nearness  with 
which  he  seemed  to  realize  the  unseen  world. 

N  2 


298  A  Noble  Life. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  said  again — "  I  sometimes  sit  for  hours 
wondering — what  the  other  life  is  like — the  life  of  which 
we  know  nothing,  yet  which  may  be  so  near  to  us  all.  I 
often  find  myself  planning  about  it  in  a  wild,  vague  way, 
what  I  am  to  do  in  it — what  God  will  permit  me  to  do — 
and  to  be.  Surely  something  more  than  He  ever  per- 
mitted here." 

"  I  believe  that,"  said  Helen.  And  after  her  habit  of 
bringing  all  things  to  the  one  test  and  the  one  teaching, 
she  reminded  him  of  the  parable  of  the  talents:  "  I  think," 
she  added,  "that  you  will  be  one  of  those  whom,  in  re- 
quital for  having  made  the  most  of  all  his  gifts  here,  He 
will  make  'ruler  over  ten  cities' — at  least,  if  he  is  a  just 
God." 

"He  is  a  just  God.  In  my  worst  trials  I  have  never 
doubted  that,"  replied  Lord  Cairnforth,  solemnly.  And 
then  he  repeated  those  words  of  St.  Paul,  to  which  many 
an  agonized  doubter  has  clung,  as  being  the  last  refuge 
of  sorrow — the  only  key  to  mysteries  which  sometimes 
shake  the  firmest  faith — "  *  For  now  we  see  through  a 
glass  darkly,  but  then  face  to  face ;  now  I  know  in  part, 
but  then  shall  I  know  even  as  also  I  am  known.'  " 

When  Helen  rose  to  retire,  which  was  not  till  mid- 
night— for  the  earl  seemed  unwilling  to  let  her  go,  say- 
ing it  was  so  long  since  they  had  had  a  quiet  talk  to- 
gether— he  asked  her  earnestly  if  she  were  content  about 
her  son. 

"  Perfectly  content.  Not  merely  content,  but  happy 
—happier  than  I  once  thought  it  possible  to  be  in  this 
world.  And  it  is  you  who  have  done  it  all — you  who 
have  made  my  boy  what  he  is.  But  he  will  reward  you 


A  Noble  Life.  299 

— I  know  he  will.  Henceforward  he  will  be  as  much 
your  son  as  mine." 

"  I  hope  so.     And  now  good-night,  my  dear." 

"  Good-night — God  bless  you." 

Mrs.  Bruce  knelt  down  beside  the  chair,  and  touched 
with  her  lips  the  poor,  useless  hands. 

"  Helen,"  said  the  earl  as  she  rose,  "kiss  me— just  once 
— as  I  remember  your  doing  when  I  was  a  boy — a  poor, 
lonely,  miserable  boy." 

She  kissed  him  very  tenderly,  then  went  away  and 
left  him  sitting  there  in  his  little  chair,  opposite  the  fire, 
alone  in  the  large,  splendid,  empty  room. 


Helen  Bruce  could  not  sleep  that  night.  Either  the 
day's  excitement  had  been  too  much  for  her,  or  she  was 
disturbed  by  the  wild  winds  that  went  shrieking  round 
the  Castle,  reminding  her  over  and  over  again  of  what 
the  earl  had  just  said  concerning  them.  There  came  into 
her  mind  an  uneasy  feeling  about  her  father,  whom  for 
so  many  years  she  had  never  left  a  night  alone ;  but  it 
was  useless  regretting  this  now.  At  last,  toward  morn- 
ing, the  storm  gradually  lulled.  She  rose,  and  looked 
out  of  her  window  on  the  loch,  which  glittered  in  the 
moonlight  like  a  sea  of  glass.  It  reminded  her,  with  an 
involuntary  fancy,  of  the  sea  "  clear  as  glass,  like  unto 
crystal,"  spoken  of  in  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse as  being  "before  the  Throne."  She  stood  looking 
at  it  for  a  minute  or  so,  then  went  back  to  her  bed  and 
slept  peacefully  till  daylight. 

She  was   dressing  herself,  full  of  quiet  and  happy 


300  A  Noble  Life. 

thoughts,  admiring  the  rosy  winter  sunrise,  and  planning 
all  she  meant  to  do  that  day,  when  she  was  startled  by 
Mrs.  Campbell,  who  came  suddenly  into  the  room  with  a 
face  as  white  and  rigid  as  marble. 

"  He's  awa',"  she  said,  or  rather  whispered. 

"Who  is  away?"  shrieked  Helen,  thinking  at-  once  of 
her  father. 

"  Whisht !"  said  the  old  nurse,  catching  hold  of  Mrs. 
Bruce  as  she  was  rushing  from  the  room,  and  speaking 
beneath  her  breath ;  "whisht!  My  lord's  deid ;  but  we'll 
no  greet ;  I  canna.greet.  He's  gane  awa'  hame." 

No,  it  was  not  the  old  man  who  was  called.  Mr.  Car- 
dross  lived  several  years  after  then — lived  to  be  nearly 
ninety.  It  was  the  far  younger  life — young,  and  yet 
how  old  in  suffering ! — which  had  thus  suddenly  and  un- 
expectedly come  to  an  end. 

The  earl  was  found  dead  in  his  bed,  in  his  customary 
attitude  of  repose,  just  as  Malcolm  always  placed  him, 
and  left  him  till  the  morning.  His  eyes  were  wide  open, 
so  that  he  could  not  have  died  in  his  sleep.  But  how, 
at  what  hour,  or  in  what  manner  he  had  died — whether 
the  summons  had  been  slow  or  sudden,  whether  he  had 
tried  to  call  assistance  and  failed,  or  whether,  calling  no 
one  and  troubling  no  one,  his  fearless  soul  had  passed, 
and  chosen  to  pass  thus  solitary  unto  its  God,  none  ever 
knew  or  ever  could  know,  and  it  was  all  the  same  now. 

He  died  as  he  had  lived,  quite  alone.  But  it  did  not 
seem  to  have  been  a  painful  death,  for  the  expression  of 
his  features  was  peaceful,  and  they  had  already  settled 
down  into  that  mysteriously  beautiful  death-smile  which 
is  never  seen  on  any  human  face  but  once. 


A  Noble  Life.  301 

Helen  stood  and  looked  down  upon  it — the  dear  famil- 
iar face,  now,  in  the  grandeur  of  death,  suddenly  grown 
strange.  She  thought  of  what  they  had  been  talking 
about  last  night  concerning  the  world  to  come.  Now  he 
knew  it  all.  She  did  not  "greet;"  she  could  not.  In 
spite  of  its  outward  incompleteness,  it  had  been  a  noble 
life — an  almost  perfect  life ;  and  now  it  was  ended.  He 
had  had  his  desire ;  his  poor  helpless  body  cumbered  him 
no  more — he  was  "away." 

*.*'-'*...        ^  ;•*:.•*•.,# 

It  was  a  bright  winter  morning  the  day  the  Earl  of 
Cairnforth  was  buried — clear  hard  frost,  and  a  little  snow 
— not  much — snow  never  lies  long  on  the  shores  of  Loch 
Beg.  There  was  no  stately  funeral,  for  it  was  found  that 
he  had  left  express  orders  to  the  contrary ;  but  four  of 
his  own  people,  Malcolm  Campbell  and  three  more,  took 
on  their  shoulders  the  small  coffin,  scarcely  heavier  than 
a  child's,  and  bore  it  tenderly  from  Cairnforth  Castle  to 
Cairnforth  kirk-yard.  After  it  came  a  long,  long  train 
of  silent  mourners,  as  is  customary  in  Scotch  funerals. 
Such  a  procession  had  not  been  witnessed  for  centuries 
in  all  this  country-side.  Ere  they  left  the  Castle  the  fu- 
neral prayer  was  offered  up  by  Mr.  Cardross,  the  last  time 
the  good  old  minister's  voice  was  ever  heard  publicly  in 
his  own  parish,  and  at  the  head  of  the  coffin  walked,  as 
chief  mourner,  Cardross  Bruce-Montgomerie,  the  earl's 
adopted  son. 

And  so,  laid  beside  his  father  and  mother,  they  left 
him  to  his  rest. 

According  to  his  own  wish,  his  grave  bears  this  in- 
scription, carved  upon  a  plain  upright  stone,  which — also 


302  '        A  Noble  Life. 

by  his  particular  request — stands  with  its  face  toward  the 
Manse  windows : 


Cljarks  (£buwr&  Qttwrt  iftontgamerie, 

THE    LAST    EARL   OF    CAIRNFORTH. 

DIED  «        *        •       « 

AGED  43   YEARS. 

"  THY  WILT.  BE  DONE  ON  EAKTU  AS  rr  is  IN  HEAVEN." 


THE   END. 


By  the  Author  of  "Joh 


From  the  North  British  Review. 

She  attempts  to  show  how  the  trials,  perplexities,  joys,  sorrows,  la- 
bors, and  successes  of  life  deepen  or  wither  the  character  according  to 
its  inward  bent. 

She  cares  to  teach,  not  how  dishonesty  is  always  plunging  men  into 
infinitely  more  complicated  external  difficulties  than  it  would  in  real  life, 
but  how  any  continued  insincerity  gradually  darkens  and  corrupts  the 
very  life-springs  of  the  mind ;  not  how  all  events  conspire  to  crush  an 
unreal  being  who  is  to  be  the  "  example  "  of  the  story,  but  how  every 
event,  adverse  or  fortunate,  tends  to  strengthen  and  expand  a  high  mind, 
and  to  break  the  springs  of  a  selfish  or  merely  weak  and  self-indulgent 
nature. 

She  does  not  limit  herself  to  domestic  conversations,  and  the  mere 
shock  of  character  on  character ;  she  includes  a  long  range  of  events — 
the  influence  of  worldly  successes  and  failures — the  risks  of  commercial 
enterprises — the  power  of  social  position — in  short,  the  various  elements 
of  a  wider  economy  than  that  generally  admitted  into  a  tale. 

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"  make  books,"  and  yet  she  has  evidently  very  great  facility  in  making 
them. 

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of  "The  Ogilvies"  and  "John  Halifax." 


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WHYMPER'S  ALASKA.  Travel  and  Adventure  in  the  Territory  of  Alas- 
ka, formerly  Russian  America— now  Ceded  to  the  United  States— and  in 
various  other  parts  of  the  North  Pacific.  By  FREDERICK  WHYMPEB 
With  Map  and  Illustrations.  Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

ORTON'S  ANDES  AND  THE  AMAZON.  The  Andes  and  the  Amazon ;  or, 
Across  the  Continent  of  South  America.  By  JAMES  ORTON,  M.A.,  Pro- 
fessor of  Natural  History  in  Vassar  College,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.,  and 
Corresponding  Member  of  the  Academy  of  Natural  Scieuces,  Philadel- 
phia. With  a  New  Map  of  Equatorial  America  and  numerous  Illustra- 
tions. Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

WINCHELL'S  SKETCHES  OF  CREATION.  Sketches  of  Creation:  a 
Popular  View  of  some  of  the  Grand  Conclusions  of  the  Scieuces  in  ref- 
erence to  the  History  of  Matter  and  of  Life.  Together  with  a  Statement 
of  the  Intimations  of  Science  respecting  the  Primordial  Condition  and 
the  Ultimate  Destiny  of  the  Earth  and  the  Solar  System.  By  ALEXAN- 
DER WINCUELL,  LL.D.,  Chancellor  of  the  Syracuse  University.  With 
Illustrations.  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

WHITE'S  MASSACRE  OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW.  The  Massacre  of  St. 
Bartholomew :  Preceded  by  a  History  of  the  Religious  Wars  in  the  Reign 
of  Charles  IX.  By  HEN  BY  WHITE,  M.  A.  With  Illustrations.  Svo,  Cloth, 
$1  75. 

LOSSING'S  FIELD-BOOK  OF  THE  REVOLUTION.  Pictorial  Field-Book 
of  the  Revolution  ;  or,  Illustrations,  by  Pen  and  Pencil,  of  the  History, 
Biography,  Scenery,  Relics,  and  Traditions  of  the  War  for  Independ- 
ence. By  BENSON  J.  LOBSING.  2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $14  00 ;  Sheep,  $15  00 ; 
Half  Calf,  $13  00;  Full  Turkey  Morocco,  $22  00. 

LOSSING'S  FIELD-BOOK  OF  THE  WAR  OF  1812.  Pictorial  Field-Book 
of  the  War  of  1812  ;  or,  Illustrations,  by  Pen  and  Pencil,  of  the  Historj;, 
Biography,  Scenery,  Relics,  and  Traditions  of  the  Last  War  for  Ameri- 
can Independence.  By  BENSON  J.  LOSSING.  With  several  hundred  En- 
gravings on  Wood,  by  Lossing  and  Barritt,  chiefly  from  Original  Sketch- 
es by  the  Author.  10S8  pages,  Svo,  Cloth,  $700;  Sheep,  $S  50;  Half 
Calf,  $10  00. 

ALFORD'S  GREEK  TESTAMENT.  The  Greek  Testament :  with  a  crit- 
ically revised  Text;  a  Digest  of  Various  Readings;  Marginal  References 
to  Verbal  and  Idiomatic  Usage ;  Prolegomena  ;^and  a  Critical  and  Exe- 
getical  Commentary.  For  the  Use  of  Theological  Students  and  Minis- 
ters. By  HENRY  ALFORD.  D.D.,  Dean  of  Canterbury.  Vol.  I.,  contain- 
ing the  Four  Gospels.  944  pages,  Svo,  Cloth,  $G  00 ;  Sheep,  $6  50. 

ABBOTT'S  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  The  History  of  Frederick  the 
Second,  called  Frederick  the  Great.  By  JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT.  Elegantly 
Illustrated.  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

ABBOTT'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  The  French 
Revolution  of  1789,  as  viewed  in  the  Light  of  Republican  Institutions. 
By  JOIIN  S.  C.  ABBOTT.  With  100  Engravings.  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

ABBOTT'S  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  The  History  of  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte. By  JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT.  With  Maps,  Woodcuts,  and  Portraits  ou 
Steel.  2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $10  00. 

ABBOTT'S  NAPOLEON  AT  ST.  HELENA;  or,  Interesting  Anecdotes  and 
Remarkable  Conversations  of  the  Emperor  during  the  Five  and  a  Half 
Years  of  his  Captivity.  Collected  from  the  Memorials  of  Las  Casas, 
O'Meara,  Montholou,  Antommarchi,  and  others.  By  JOIIN  S.  C.  ABBOTT. 
With  Illustrations.  8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

ADDISON'S  COMPLETE  WORKS.  The  Works  of  Joseph  Addison,  em- 
bracing the  whole  of  the  "Spectator."  Complete  in  3  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth, 
$600. 


4          Harper  &*  Brothers'  Valuable  and  Interesting  Works. 

ALCOCK'S  JAPAN.  The  Capital  of  the  Tycoon :  a  Narrative  of  a  Three 
Years'  Residence  in  Japan.  By  Sir  RUTHERFORD  ALCOCK,  K.C.B.,  Her 
Majesty's  Envoy  Extraordinary  and  Minister  Plenipotentiary  in  Japan. 
With  Maps  and  Engravings.  2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 

ALISON'S  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE.  FIRST  SERIES  :  From  the  Commence- 
ment of  the  French  Revolution,  in  1789,  to  the  Restoration  of  the  Bour- 
bons, in  1815.  [In  addition  to  the  Notes  on  Chapter  LXXVL,  which  cor- 
rect the  errors  of  the  original  work  concerning  the  United  States,  a  copi- 
ous Analytical  Index  has  been  appended  to  this  American  Edition.] 
SECOND  SKIUES:  From  the  Fall  of  Napoleon,  in  1815,  to  the  Accession  of 
Louis  Napoleon,  in  1852.  8  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $16  00. 

BARTH'S  NORTH  AND  CENTRAL  AFRICA.  Travels  and  Discoveries  in 
North  and  Central  Africa :  being  a  Journal  of  an  Expedition  undertaken 
under  the  Auspices  of  H.B.M.'s  Government,  in  the  Years  1849-1855.  By 
HENBY  EARTH,  Ph.D.,  D.C.L.  Illustrated.  3  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $12  00. 

HENRY  WARD  BEECHER'S  SERMONS.  Sermons  by  HENRY  WARD 
BEECHKR,  Plymouth  Church,  Brooklyn.  Selected  from  Published  and 
Unpublished  Discourses,  and  Revised  by  their  Author.  With  Steel  Por- 
trait. Complete  in  2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

LYMAN  BEECHER'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY,  &o.  Autobiography,  Corres- 
pondence, &c.,  of  Lyman  Beecher,  D.D.  Edited  by  his  Son,  CHARLES 
BEEOUER.  With  Three  Steel  Portraits,  and  Engravings  on  Wood.  In  2 
vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

BOSWELL'S  JOHNSON.  The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.D.  Including 
a  Journey  to  the  Hebrides.  By  JAMES  BOBWELL,  Esq.  A  New  Edition, 
with  numerous  Additions  and  Notes.  By  JOHN  WILSON  CHOKER,  LL.D., 
F.R.S.  Portrait  of  Boswell.  2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $4  00. 

DRAPER'S  CIVIL  WAR.  History  of  the  American  Civil  War.  By  Jonx 
W.  DRAPER,  M.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Chemistry  and  Physiology  in  the 
University  of  New  York.  In  Three  Vols.  Svo,  Cloth,  $3  50  per  vol. 

DRAPER'S  INTELLECTUAL  DEVELOPMENT  OF  EUROPE.  A  Histo- 
ry of  the  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe.  By  JOHN  W.  DRAPER, 
M.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Chemistry  and  Physiology  in  the  University 
of  New  York.  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

DRAPER'S  AMERICAN  CIVIL  POLICY.  Thoughts  on  the  Future  Civil 
Policy  of  America.  By  JOHN  W.  DRAPER,  M.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of 
Chemistry  and  Physiology  in  the  University  of  New  York.  Crown  Svo, 
Cloth,  $2  50. 

DU  CHAILLU'S  AFRICA.  Explorations  and  Adventures  in  Equatorial  Af- 
rica, with  Accounts  of  the  Manners  and  Customs  of  the  People,  and  of 
the  Chase  of  the  G9rilla,  the  Crocodile,  Leopard,  Elephant,  Hippopota- 
mus, and  other  Animals.  By  PAUL  B.  Dp  CHAILLU.  Numerous  Illus- 
trations. Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

DU  CHAILLU'S  ASHANGO  LAND.  A  Journey  to  Ashango  Land:  and 
Further  Penetration  into  Equatorial  Africa.  By  PAUL  B.  Du  CUAILLU. 
New  Edition.  Handsomely  Illustrated.  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

BELLOWS'S  OLD  WORLD.  The  Old  World  in  its  New  Face :  Impressions 
of  Europe  in  186T-1S68.  By  HENRY  W.  BELLOWS.  2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth, 
$350. 

BRODHEAD'S  HISTORY  OF  NEW  YORK.  History  of  the  State  of  New 
York.  By  JOHN  ROMEYN  BRODHEAD.  1C09-1C91.  2  vols.  Svo,  Cloth, 
$3  00  per  vol. 

BROUGHAM'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  Life  and  Times  of  HENRY,  Lorio 
BROUGHAM.  Written  by  Himself.  In  Three  Volumes.  12mo,  Cloth, 
$2  00  per  vol. 

MULWER'S  PROSE  WORKS.  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works  of  Edward  Bui- 
w-or,  Lord  Lyttou.  2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 


Harper  6°  Brothers'  Valuable  and  Interesting  Works.          5 

BULWER:S  HORACE.  The  Odes  and  Epodes  of  Horace.  A  Metrical 
Translation  into  English.  With  Introduction  and  Commentaries.  By 
LORD  LYTTON.  With  Latin  Text  from  the  Editions  of  Orelli,  Macleans) 
and  Yonge.  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 

BULWER'S  KING  ARTHUR,  A  Poem.  By  LORD  LYTTON.  New  Edition, 
12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 

BURNS'S  LIFE  AND  WORKS.  The  Life  and  Works  of  Robert  Burns. 
Edited  by  ROBERT  CHAMBERS.  4  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $G  00. 

REINDEER,  DOGS,  AND  SNOW-SHOES.  A  Journal  of  Siberian  Travel 
and  Explorations  made  in  the  Years  1SG5-'G7.  By  RICHARD  J.  BUSH,  late 
of  the  Russo-American  Telegraph  Expedition.  Illustrated.  Crown  8vo, 
Cloth,  $3  00. 

CARLYLE'S  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  History  of  Friedrich  II.,  called 
Frederick  the  Great.  By  THOMAS  CABLYLE.  Portraits,  Maps,  Plans, 
&c.  6  vols.,  12rno,  Cloth,  $12  00. 

CARLYLE'S  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  History  of  the  French  Revolution. 
2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 

CARLYLE'S  OLIVER  CROMWELL.  Letters  and  Speeches  of  Oliver 
Cromwell.  With  Elucidations  and  Connecting  Narrative.  2  vols.,  12mo, 
Cloth,  $3  50. 

CHALMERS'S  POSTHUMOUS  WORKS.  The  Posthumous  Works  of  Dr. 
Chalmers.  Edited  by  his  Son-in-Law,  Rev.  WILLIAM  HANNA,  LL.D. 
Complete  in  9  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $13  50. 

COLERIDGE'S  COMPLETE  WORKS.  The  Complete  Works  of  Samuel 
Taylor  Coleridge,  With  an  Introductory  Essay  upon  his  Philosophical 
and  Theological  Opinions.  Edited  by  Professor  SHEDD.  Complete  iu 
Seven  Vols.  With  a  Portrait.  Small  8vo,  Cloth,  $10  50. 

DOOLITTLE'S  CHINA.  Social  Life  of  the  Chinese :  with  some  Account  of 
their  Religious,  Governmental,  Educational,  and  Business  Customs  and 
Opinions.  With  special  but  not  exclusive  Reference  to  Fuhchan.  By 
Rev.  JUSTUS  DOOLITTLE,  Fourteen  Years  Member  of  the  Fuhchau  Mis- 
sion of  the  American  Board.  Illustrated  with  more  that  150  character- 
istic Engravings  on  Wood.  2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

GIBBON'S  ROME.  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
By  EDWARD  GIBBON.  With  Notes  by  Rev.  H.  H.  MILMAN  and  M.  GUIZOT. 
A  new  cheap  Edition.  To  which  is  added  a  complete  Index  of  the  whole 
Work,  and  a  Portrait  of  the  Author.  6  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $9  00. 

HAZEN'S  SCHOOL  AND  ARMY  IN  GERMANY  AND  FRANCE.  The 
School  and  the  Army  .in  Germany  and  France,  with  a  Diary  of  Siege 
Life  at  Versailles.  By  Brevet  Major-General  W.  B.  HAZEN,  U.S.A.,  Col- 
onel Sixth  Infantry.  Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

HARPER'S  NEW  CLASSICAL  LIBRARY.    Literal  Translations. 
The  following  Vols.  are  now  ready.    12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50  each. 
CAESAR.—  VIRGIL.— SALLUST.— HORACE.— CICEBO'S  ORATIONS.— CICERO'S 
OFFICES,  &c. — CICERO  ON  ORATORY  AND  ORATORS. — TACITUS  (2  vols.). 
— TERENCE. — SOPHOCLES. — JUVENAL. — XENOPHON. — HOMER'S  ILIAD. — 
HOMER'S  ODYSSEY.  — HERODOTUS.  — DEMOSTHENES.  — THUCYDIDES.  — 
^ESCHYLUS. — EURIPIDES  (2  vols.). — LIVY  (2  vols.). 

DA  VIS'S  CARTHAGE.  Carthage  and  her  Remains:  being  an  Account  of 
the  Excavations  and  Researches  on  the  Site  of  the  Phoenician  Metropo- 
lis in  Africa  and  other  adiacent  Places.  Conducted  under  the  Auspices 
of  Her  Majesty's  Government.  By  Dr.  DAVIS,  F.R.G.S.  Profusely  Illus- 
trated with  Maps,  Woodcuts,  Chromo-Lithographs,  &c.  Svo,  Cloth, 
$400. 

EDGEWORTH'S  (Miss)   NOVELS.     With  Engravings.     10  vols..    12mo, 

Cloth,  $15  00. 
GROTE'S  HISTORY  OF  GREECE.    12  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $18  00. 


6          Harper  dr3  Brothers'  Valuable  and  Interesting  Works. 

HELPS'S  SPANISH  CONQUEST.  The  Spanish  Conquest  in  America,  and 
its  Relation  to  the  History  of  Slavery  and  to  the  Government  of  Colonies. 
By  ABTIIUU  HELPS.  4  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $6  00. 

HALE'S  (MR8.)  WOMAN'S  RECORD.  Woman's  Record  ;  or,  Biographical 
Sketches  of  all  Distinguished  Women,  from  the  Creation  to  the  Present 
Time.  Arranged  in  Four  Eras,  with  Selections  from  Female  Writers  of 
Each  Era.  By  Mrs.  SARAH  JbsnoA  HALE.  Illustrated  with  more  than 
200  Portraits.  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

HALL'S  ARCTIC  RESEARCHES.  Arctic  Researches  and  Life  among  the 
Esquimaux:  being  the  Narrative  of  an  Expedition  in  Search  of  Sir  John 
Franklin,  in  the  Years  1SGO,  1861,  and  1862.  By  CHARLIW  FRANCIS  HALL. 
With  Maps  and  100  Illustrations.  The  Illustrations  are  from  the  Origi- 
nal Drawings  by  Charles  Parsons,  Henry  L.  Stephens,  Solomon  Eytinge, 
W.  S.  L.  Jewett,  and  Granville  Perkins,  after  Sketches  by  Captain  Hall. 
Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

HALLAM'S  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  from  the  Ac- 
cession of  Henry  VII.  to  the  Death  of  George  II.  Svo,  Clotn,  $2  00. 

HALLAM'S  LITERATURE.  Introduction  to  the  Literature  of  Europe  dur- 
ing the  Fifteenth,  Sixteenth,  and  Seventeenth  Centuries.  By  HENRY 
HALLAM.  2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $4  00. 

HALLAM'S  MIDDLE  AGES.  State  of  Europe  during  the  Middle  Ages. 
By  HENKY  HALLAM.  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

HILDRETH'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES.  FIKST  SERIES: 
From  the  First  Settlement  of  the  Country  to  the  Adoption  of  the  Federal 
Constitution.  SECOND  SERIKS  :  From  the  Adoption  of  the  Federal  Con- 
stitution to  the  End  of  the  Sixteenth  Congress.  6  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth, 
$18  00. 

HUME'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  History  of  England,  from  the  Inva- 
sion of  Julius  Caesar- to  the  Abdication  of  James  II.,  1688.  By  DAVID 
HUME.  A  new  Edition,  with  the  Author's  last  Corrections  and  Improve- 
ments. To  which  is  Prefixed  a  short  Account  of  his  Life,  written  by 
Himself.  With  a  Portrait  of  the  Author.  6  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $9  00.  " 

JAY'S  WORKS.  Complete  Works  of  Rev.  William  Jay:  comprising  his 
Sermons,  Family  Discourses,  Morning  and  Evening  Exercises  for  every 
Day  in  the  Year,  Family  Prayers,  &c.  Author's  enlarged  Edition,  re- 
vised. 3  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $6  00. 

JEFFERSON'S  DOMESTIC  LIFE.  The  Domestic  Life  of  Thomas  Jeffer- 
son: compiled  from  Family  Letters  and  Reminiscences,  by  his  Great- 
Grauddaughter,  SARAII  N.  RANDOLPH.  With  Illustrations.  Crown  Svo, 
Illuminated  Cloth,  Beveled  Edges,  $2  50. 

JOHNSON'S  COMPLETE  WORKS.  The  Works  of  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.D. 
With  an  Essay  on  his  Life  and  Genius,  by  ABTHUR  MURPHY,  Esq.  Por- 
trait of  Johnson.  2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $4  00. 

KINGLAKE'S  CRIMEAN  WAR.  The  Invasion  of  the  Crimea,  and  an  Ac 
count  of  its  Progress  down  to  the  Death  of  Lord  Raglan.  By  ALEXAN- 
DER WILLIAM  KINGLAKE.  With  Maps  and  Plans.  Two  Vols.  ready. 
12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00  per  vol. 

KINGSLEY'S  WEST  INDIES.  At  Last:  A  Christmas  in  the  West  Indies. 
By  CHARLES  KINGSLEY.  Illustrated.  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 

KRUMMACHER'S  DAVID,  KING  OF  ISRAEL.  David,  the  King  of  Isra- 
el:  a  Portrait  drawn  from  Bible  History  and  the  Book  of  Psalms.  By 
FREDERICK  WILLIAM  KRUMMACHKR,  D.D.,  Author  of  "Elijah  the  Tish- 
bite,"  &c.  Translated  under  the  express  Sanction  of  the  Author  by  the 
Rev.  M.  G.  EASTON,  M.A.  Wilh  a  Letter  from  Dr.  Krnmmacher  to  his 
American  Readers,  and  a  Portrait.  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 

tAMB'S  COMPLETE  WORKS.  The  Works  of  Charles  Lamb.  Compris- 
ing his  Letters,  Poems,  Essays  of  Elia,  Essays  upon  Shakspeare,  Ho- 
garth, &c.,  and  a  Sketch  of  his  Life,  with  the  Final  Memorials,  by  T.  Noon 
TAWOT;BD.  Portrait.  2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 


Harper  dr»  Brothers'  Valuable  and  Interesting  IVorks.          7 

LIVINGSTONE'S  SOUTH  AFRICA.  Missionary  Travels  and  Researches 
in  South  Africa;  including  a  Sketch  of  Sixteen  Years'  Residence  in  the 
Interior  of  Africa,  and  a  Journey  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  to  Loan- 
do  on  the  West  Coast ;  theuce  across  the  Continent,  down  the  River 
Zambesi,  to  the  Eastern  Ocean.  By  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE,  LL.D.,  D.C.L. 
With  Portrait,  Maps  by  Arrowsmith,  and  numerous  Illustrations.  Svo, 
Cloth,  $4  50. 

LIVINGSTONES'  ZAMBESI.  Narrative  of  an  Expedition  to  the  Zambesi 
and  its  Tributaries,  and  of  the  Discovery  of  the  Lakes  Shirwa  and  Ny- 
assa.  1858-1864.  By  DAVID  and  CHARLES  LIVINGSTONE.  With  Map  and 
Illustrations.  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

M'CLINTOCK  &  STRONG'S  CYCLOPAEDIA.  Cyclopaedia  of  Biblical, 
Theological,  and  Ecclesiastical  Literature.  Prepared  by  the  Rev.  Join* 
M'CLINTOCK,  D.D.,  and  JAMES  STRONG,  S.T.D.  5  vols.  now  ready.  Royal 
Svo,  Price  per  vol.,  Cloth,  $5  00;  Sheep,  $6  00;  Half  Morocco,  $8  00. 

MARCY'S  ARMY  LIFE  ON  THE  BORDER.  Thirty  Years  of  Army  Life 
on  the  Border.  Comprising  descriptions  of  the  Indian  Nomads  of  the 
Plains  ;  Explorations  of  NeW  Territory ;  a  Trip  across  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ains in  the  Winter;  Descriptions  of  the  Habits  of  Different  Animals 
found  in  the  West,  and  the  Methods  of  Hunting  them ;  with  Incidents 
in  the  Life  of  Different  Frontier  Men,  &c.,  &c.  By  Brevet  Brigadier- 
General  R.  B.  MARCY,  U.S.A.,  Author  of  "The  Prairie  Traveller. )p  With 
numerous  Illustrations.  Svo,  Cloth,  Beveled  Edges,  $3  00. 

MACAULAY'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  The  History  of  England  from 
the  Accession  of  James  II.  By  THOMAS  BABINGTON  MAOATJLAY.  With 
an  Original  Portrait  of  the  Author.  5  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $10  00;  12mo, 
Cloth,  $7  50. 

MOSHEIM'S  ECCLESIASTICAL  HISTORY,  Ancient  and  Modern;  in 
which  the  Rise,  Progress,  and  Variation  of  Church  Power  are  considered 
in  their  Connection  with  the  State  of  Learning  and  Philosophy,  and  the 
Political  History  of  Europe  during  that  Period.  Translated,  with  Notes, 
&c.,  by  A.  MACLAINK,  D.D.  A  new  Edition,  continued  to  1826,  by  C. 
COOTE,  LL.D.  2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $4  00. 

THE  DESERT  OF  THE  EXODUS.  Journeys  on  Foot  in  the  Wilderness 
of  the  Forty  Years'  Wanderings ;  undertaken  in  connection  with  the 
Ordnance  Survey  of  Sinai  and  the  Palestine  Exploration  Fund.  By  E. 
H.  PALMER,  M.A.,  Lord  Almoner's  Professor  of  Arabic,  and  Fellow  of 
St.  John's  College,  Cambridge.  With  Maps  and  numerous  Illustrations 
from  Photographs  and  Drawings  taken  on  the  spot  by  the  Sinai  Survey 
Expedition  and  C.  F.  Tyrwhitt  Drake.  Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 

OLIPH  ANT'S  CHINA  AND  JAPAN.  Narrative  of  the  Earl  of  Elgin's  Mis- 
sion to  China  and  Japan,  in  the  Years  185T,  '58,  '59.  By  LAURENCE  OLT- 
PHANT,  Private  Secretary  to  Lord  Elgin.  Illustrations.  Svo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 

OLIPHANT'S  (Mns.)  LIFE  OF  EDWARD  IRVING.  The  Life  of  Edward 
Irving,  Minister  of  the  National  Scotch  Church,  London.  Illustrated  bj 
his  Journals  and  Correspondence.  By  Mrs.  OLIVHANT.  Portrait.  Svo, 
Cloth,  $3  50. 

RAWLINSON'S  MANUAL  OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY.  A  Manual  of  An- 
cient  History,  from  the  Earliest  Times  to  the  Fall  of  the  Western  Empire. 
Comprisiug  the  History  of  Chaldaea,  Assyria,  Media,  Babylonia,  Lydia, 
Phoenicia,  Syria,  Judaea,  Egypt,  Carthage,  Persia,  Greece,  Macedonia, 
Parthia,  and  Rome.  By  GKORGE  RAWLINSON,  M.A.,  Camden  Professoy 
of  Ancient  History  in  the  University  of  Oxford.  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

RECLUS'S  THE  EARTH.  The  Earth:  A  Descriptive  History  of  the  Phe- 
nomena and  Life  of  the  Globe.  By  ILLISEE  RKCLUS.  Translated  by  the 
late  B.  B.  Woodward,  and  Edited  by  Henry  Woodward.  With  234  Mape 
and  Illustrations  and  23  Page  Maps  printed  in  Colors.  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

RECLUS'S  OCEAN.  The  Ocean,  Atmosphere,  and  Life.  Being  the  Second 
Series  of  a  Descriptive  History  of  the  Life  of  the  Globe.  By  E^IS^E  RE- 
OLCS.  Profusely  Illustrated  with  250  Maps  or  Figure*,  aad  27  Maps 
printed  in  Colors.  Svo,  Cloth,  $3  00- 


8          Harper  &•»  Brothers'  Valuable  and  Interesting  Works. 

SHAKSPEAKE.  The  Dramatic  Works  of  William  Shakspeare,  with  the 
Correctious  and  Illustrations  of  Dr.  JOHNSON,  G.  STEVKNS,  and  others. 
Revised  by  ISAAC  REED.  Engravings.  6  vols,  Royal  12nio,  Cloth,  $9  00. 
2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $4  00. 

SMILES'S  LIFE  OF  THE  STEPHENSONS.  The  Life  of  George  Stephen- 
aon,  and  of  his  Sou,  Robert  Stephenson  ;  comprising,  also,  a  History  of 
the  Invention  and  Introduction  of  the  Railway  Locomotive.  By  SAMUEL 
SMILES,  Author  of  "  Self-Help,"  &c.  With  Steel  Portraits  and  numerous 
Illustrations.  Svo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 

SMILES'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS.  The  Huguenots  :  their  Set- 
tlements,  Churches,  and  Industries  in  England  and  Ireland.  By  SAMUEL 
SMILES.  With  an  Appendix  relating  to  the  Huguenots  in  America. 
Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 

SPEKE'S  AFRICA.  Journal  of  the  Discovery  of  the  Source  of  the  Nile. 
By  Captain  JOHN  HANNING  SPEKE,  Captain  H.M.  Indian  Army,  Fellow 


ings  by  Captain  GRANT.    Svo,  Cloth,  uniform  with  Livingstone,  Earth, 
Burton,  &c.,  $4  00. 

STRICKLAND'S  (Miss)  QUEENS  OF  SCOTLAND.  Lives  of  the  Queens  of 
Scotland  and  .English  Princesses  connected  with  the  Regal  Succession 
of  Great  Britain.  Py  AGNES  STRICKLAND.  S  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $12  00. 

THE  STUDENT'S  SERIES. 

France.    Engravings.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Gibbon.    Engravings.    12ino,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Greece.    Engravings.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Ilume.    Engravings.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Rome.    By  Liddell.    Engravings.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Old  Testament  History.    Engravings.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

New  Testament  History.    Engravings,  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Strickland's  Queens  of  England.    Abridged.   Eug'e.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Ancient  History  of  the  East.  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Hallam'a  Middle  Ages.     12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Hallam's  Constitutional  History  of  England.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

Lyell's  Elements  of  Geology.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

TENNYSON'S  COMPLETE  POEMS.  The  Complete  Poems  of  Alfred  Ten- 
nyson, Poet  Laureate.  With  numerous  Illustrations  by  Eminent  Artists, 
and  Three  Characteristic  Portraits.  Svo,  Paper,  75  cents ;  Cloth,  $1  25. 

THOMSON'S  LAND  AND  THE  BOOK.  The  Land  and  the  Book ;  or,  Bib- 
lical Illustrations  drawn  from  the  Manners  and  Customs,  the  Scenes 
and  the  Scenery  of  the  Holy  Land.  By  W.  M.  THOMSON,  D.D.,  Twenty- 
five  Years  a  Missionary  of  the  A.B.C.F.M.  in  Syria  and  Palestine.  With 
two  elaborate  Maps  of  Palestine,  an  accurate  Plan  of  Jerusalem,  and 
several  hundred  Engravings,  representing  the  Scenery,  Topography,  and 
Productions  of  the  Holy  Land,  and  the  Costumes,  Manners,  and  Habita 
of  the  People.  2  large  12mo  vols.,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

TYERMAN'S  WESLEY.  The  Life  and  Times  of  the  Rev.  John  Wesler, 
M.A.,  Founder  of  the  Methodists.  By  the  Rev.  LUKE  TYEEMAN.  Por- 
traits. 3  vols.,  Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $7  50. 

TYERMAN'S  OXFORD  METHODISTS.  The  Oxford  Methodists :  Memoirs 
of  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Clayton,  Ingham,  Gambold,  Hervey,  and  Broughton, 
with  Biographical  Notices  of  others.  By  the  Rev.  L.  TYEUMAN.  With 
Portraits.  Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

VAMBERY'S  CENTRAL  ASIA.  Travels  in  Central  Asia.  Being  the  Ac- 
count of  a  Journey  from  Teheren  across  the  Turkoman  Desert,  on  the 
Eastern  Shore  of  the  Caspian,  to  Khiva,  Bokhara,  and  Samarcand,  per- 
formed in  the  Year  1863.  By  AKMINIUS  VAMBERY,  Member  of  the  Hun- 
garian Academy  of  Pestb,  by  whom  he  was  sent  on  this  Scientific  Mis- 
sion. With  Map  and  Woodcuts.  Svo,  Cloth,  $4  50. 

WOOD'S  HOMES  WITHOUT  HANDS.  Homes  Without  Hands:  being  a 
Description  of  the  Habitations  of  Animals,  classed  according  to  their 
Principle  of  Construction.  By  J.  G.  Wooo,  M.A.t  F.L.S.  With  about 
140  Illustrations.  Svo,  Cloth,  Beveled  Edges,  $4  60. 


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1929 


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